Sweeping Out the Old Year

Shirley stood in the doorway, broom in hand, fiercely shouting out into the 15 degree night, her dogs jumping excitedly about her feet. "BE GONE! BE GONE!" I was absolutely sure that whatever or whomever she was shouting at, most certainly had high-tailed it out of there. Still, it felt weird to observe this elderly gentile lady turn into a New Year witch.

Though she was a practicing Episcopalian, I knew she also had "aulde ways" about her. I couldn't quite join the two together in my mind, but she was fine with it. There had been times when she seemed to glow with with lunar light, or sprinkle the stars over a room full of people with her exuberance and wisdom. I remember the time we sat against the tree trunk and I felt enfolded by it as she introduced me to her own special source of strength.

When I think about it, I realize that her ways were little different from anyone else. As a society, we make a lot of noise celebrating the New Year. We leave the past year and all the mistakes we made in it behind us, sweeping it out of the way to make room for the fresh future with a new freedom in our hearts.

As I wrote about last year in this blog, my mother, raised in the hills of Pennsylvania, sent me out in the snow on New Years day clanging pot lids together to scare away all the bad luck from the previous year. Later that day, she scoured and cleaned the house from floor to ceiling. Another form of sweeping out the old year. From an early age, I learned about resolutions, promises we make to ourselves for self improvement. I asked myself how I could stop myself from being a naughty girl throughout the whole year, not just through the Christmas season, and I made a list of things I wanted to accomplish. Some of which was not always so high minded.

I know many people do not observe this old practice of resolutions, but I do. I take stock of my life. Like the ancient pagan God, Janus, I look back over the year and contemplate how it unfolded. Sometimes I am disappointed that I didn't achieve a certain goal. But, I don't allow myself to dwell on it as I am always pleased about some aspect of my life that turned out well. And like Janus, I look forward to the future with eyes open to possibilities.

When Shirley slammed the door against the night demons, she turned to me with a fire in her eye and said,  "No regrets! Just go out there and live it with determination and spirit!"

Rest in Peace Shirley 1930 - 2009

The War on Cold

The cold war had begun. But the children didn't know what that meant, not really.

They thought the snow was part of it, the ice, the leggings, boots, mittens, mufflers and coats. All were needed to fight the cold war.

On New Years eve they were sent to bed early, too young to stay up that late, unheard of. Their parents the lucky ones, to sing farewell to the old year. They would be having fun, a party with drinks.

Was it the hangovers that started this tradition? Give the parents a break, the children out of the way? Or was it a vestige of the past carried forward with that feeling of nagging necessity that New Years was to be brought in by the little ones.

Elsa's mother wrapped her up, gave her the noisemakers from halloween, clackers and whistles, pot lids from the cupboard, put them all in a sack.

"This is what you do," she said. "to welcome in the New Year, to get rid of all the bad things from last year. Make as much noise as you can. Make a parade. Get some other kids. March up and down the sidewalks, but only up to the corner and back. Then, afterwards we can have cocoa to drink."

Elsa thought perhaps this is part of the cold war, to make it go away.

She felt warm inside as she went to Bobby's house. His mother understood. Elsa and Bobby clanged on the pot lids, heartily yelling, "Happy New Year!" in their little child voices as they marched up the sidewalk to Janet's house.

The parents knew. This is the way it is done. And it will help the headaches from celebrating the night before, time to make the bleary eyed peep out the window go away. A quiet house, the children playing outside. That's what they did when they were little.

More children joined them, "Happy New Year! Happy New Year!" marching up the street all the way to Frankie's house. His mother wouldn't let him come outside.

That was when the children turned around, heading back to their warm houses, their mothers and cocoa. That was when snow crept into the top of Elsa's boots and melted into her socks. Her breath crystalized into her muffler making her nose red.

The sky turned grey. The trees crackled.

Good bye, Tommy.

Happy New Year, Janet and Mary.

See you tomorrow, Dickie. Are you going to have Cocoa, too?

The snow began to fall. Elsa clanged the pot lids together one more time.

She didn't yell anymore. She had done her part to fight the cold war.

Elsa thought of hot cocoa and smiled.

Please respect my copyrighted story and contact me if you wish to use any part of it.
Thank you,
Elizabeth Munroz

(total word count for today: 808)