tradition

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way into the New Year…

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Here it was, a few hours before the New Year and my little heart was going pitter-patter with nervousness.  I am sure everyone has their tradition regarding the coming year, but I have this quirky superstition that whatever I am doing last in the “old year” will be a representation of what my life will be like in the new year.  So, here it was, 2016, and I was having a fantastic time hanging out with wonderful friends.  We were shooting darts or playing Euchre and for some reason, I still felt like there was something not quite right.  Playing games is a good way to start the new year but I felt I needed more.  Then…it happened!

“3…2…1…Jump!” I heard everyone yell.  I jumped excitedly off the couch, waving my hands in the air and landing happily on the floor.  This was my fantastic leap into the New Year!  I was also 7 years old.  My parents had let us stay up late so that we could do this exciting thing!  My mother had made homemade pizza (we weren’t take-out OR delivery people).  My aunts, uncles, and (YAY) cousins had come over for this new adventure.  I recall the big joke my dad had made with regards to my eating habits:  “Ha ha!  It took you two years to eat a slice of pizza.”  Too true!  I started a slice of pizza (I was a super, super slow eater.  Nothing like the Hoover-eater I am today!) and I finally got to finish it after my super bounce.  What a memory!

As a teen, I was lucky to go out with my older siblings.  We went out to fancy banquets / dances for New Year’s Eve.  There would be a fancy three-course meal and afterward there would be endless dancing.  There was the obligatory nervousness due to the desire to find the best dress, matching high-heel shoes, fancy jewelry to be worn that evening.  Quite the show!  Quite the excitement!  Quite the fun for one evening!  Year after year we looked forward to this event.  Then marriage and children came along and the procedure changed.

As new parents, instead of going out for the evening, it was time to invite other new parents over and hang out while the kids either played together or were put to bed early.  A quiet evening with some munchies and chit-chat.  5…4…3…2…1.  Happy New Year!  Quieter, but still fun.

Fast-forward again and you see children breaking away from their parents to do their own thing.  The parents would either have fun continuing their pre-toddler tradition of a banquet hall or they might even stay home.  Parents worried about their children, but pretended they did not.  Children…ahem…adults…not worrying at all since they were invincible. 5…4…3…2…1. Happy New Year!

This is a footnote of what life was like for me every New Year’s Eve.  As I grew older I realized the beauty of life and how incredible each coming new year was.  I also gave up on resolutions.  I found that these best-intentioned goals seemed to dissipate, usually by…um…January 14th.  I finally decided that I would focus on that last hour of the old year to predict my new year’s fate.  Why?  Not sure, but it seemed like a genuinely great idea at the time.  This brings us full circle back to December 31st, 2016 and when IT happened.

We had congregated in the kitchen. Nine minutes to go.  Here we were, all gathered together, awaiting the dawn of the new year.  I sat there nervously, pensively.  Why?  Well, my weird (unique) thought-bend of “last actions of previous year permeating the new year” were beginning to haunt me.  Yes we had had fun! Yes we were surrounded by friends!  Something was missing and I didn’t know how to fix it.  Then, a funny thing happened on the way into the New Year.

“Amanda is still up,” said H.

“Who threw up?!” queried B.  That was it!  I broke out in fits of laughter.

“No,” said H, “Amanda is still up.”  I was done for.  I was laughing hysterically.  Literally laughing out loud (the real LOL).

Suddenly Wiseguy yelled “HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”  We looked at him like he was a crazy man.  The time on the stove clock showed a minute to midnight.  He pointed to the television which showed all these lovely people happily kissing and embracing each other.  Not only had we missed the countdown, but we had missed the actual jump into the New Year.  Were we upset?  Heck no!  We all hugged afterward and wished each other all the best in the new year.

Me?  I was beyond ecstatic.  I had desired a sign to show me what the 2017 year would be like based on my interesting definition of “old versus new” philosophy.  I was so grateful to be laughing hysterically from 2016 into 2017.  This was something very new for me.  So far my jaw is going to need therapy from all the laughing I have been doing.

P.S.  I did feel short-changed a bit in missing the countdown.  Imagine my surprise and supreme gratefulness, when my friends and I got to do a repeat countdown!  We watched as New Orleans counted down (an hour later) into the New Year.  I love this life!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!   May you wake up happy every morning.  May you look out and enjoy what you see daily.  May you appreciate all the good that you have in your life.  May you smile everyday.  Even when your life seems impossibly hard, believe that everything that happens is leading you to something brighter and better.  Life is beautiful and so are you.

 

Purge of 2016

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After years of accumulating stuff and things and needed items, our house has become a hoarder’s dream (and my nightmare).  To be completely honest, when starting our new life together with nothing except a room to rent and a bed to sleep in (mind you, it was brand spankin’ new!) the pursuit of needed items became my main goal.  Now, after 20 years, I am ready to review the necessity of our belongings.  I am mentally prepared and slowly limbering up for the PURGE OF 2016!  Yes!   This will become a glorious and monumental memory that we shall cherish forever!  At least, I thought we would.  When actually touching items and deciding if they could be discarded and banished from my life forever, I found that every item had a memory and a touching story attached.  How does one part with things that are actually moments etched in the storybook of your life?

Purging is a commonplace word nowadays.  Purge your body of bad food intake with a 7-day cleanse.  Yoga…to purge the mind of everyday stresses and old negative thoughts.  You thought IKEA was space conscious, you should check out the new Tiny House movement.

Hubby and I were the opposite. We went from a one bedroom apartment to a three bedroom semi-detached home to a single home with seven bedrooms.  Oh yes!  Seven bedrooms which would accommodate our growing family.  Total count:  Me, Wiseguy, his father, Wiseguy’s grandmother, two sons, and a daughter.  Check, check, and check!  A room for one and all.  This also meant more items being brought into the humble abode.  As life changes so do the items in your keepsake arsenal.

When my mother-in-law passed away my father-in-law moved in with us.  That meant 50 years of accumulated treasures and keepsakes.  He sold the cottage.  More items transported into the home.  I myself was cooking with enthusiasm and vigour which also introduced me to many new kitchen appliances and toys.   (Kitchen gadgets are my drug of choice…first even before my Sephora make-up “crack” addiction).  After years of planning, purchasing, collecting and storing how does one begin to cut the umbilicle cord of memories?

I will now show you an item that should be discarded.  As a sane human being, if someone showed me this particular piece I would look at them askew and ask why they still have this piece of dreck to begin with.  It’s absolutely asinine to keep this.  Here is the item I refer to:

 

This is a container that used to have Coca-Cola in it.  I received this at a fair that we used to go to called the CNE (Canadian National Exhibition).  From what I can recall (as I was at a tender tween age), this particular drink was purchased when my brothers, sister and I were at said CNE and we went to the Food Building and got pizza (we must’ve had a coupon).  I think it also came with free refills.  This is junk right?  NOPE!

Above are three pictures showing different angles of this plastic soda pop container.  The first picture shows the container in its full glory.  The second shot shows how I had devised a way to store straws so that I could keep them dust free.  This had started when Wiseguy and I had first moved in together.  Limited space meant using stuff in an ingenious way.  The third picture shows how I had created an enticing way for the kids to get straws.  We would tip the container and try to guess what colour straw would come out.  Sounds silly, but for some reason this has become a weird tradition.

Historically, traditions are passed from generation to generation.  They date back years, decades, centuries, etc.  My fantastically absurd way of getting a straw was my way of entertaining my stepchildren.  We had no money to do fun stuff so I was always trying to think up new ways to challenge their minds and create interesting new games.  This straw game has now gone from stepchildren to grandchildren.

Kennie, being the eldest grandchild, was shown this trick by her mother (my stepdaughter).  She was fascinated!  Now, she knows where this old container is and shares it with her little sister and younger cousins.  It’s like magic!

I’m holding this ridiculous straw container in my hand.  It’s really old, junky and I could buy a lovely glass container to hold my straws.  I could easily discard this space invader and keep the memories of this CNE memento.  I would always remember the magical memories it held for me with each child that used it in awe.  However, seeing it in my cupboard and knowing that one of the four grandchildren would grab for it, I hesitate to discard it.  If it came to a purge vote would it be IN to keep or OUT to purge?

What do you think?