After a few years of reduced participation in holiday revelry due to the Covid pandemic we decided to throw ourselves wholeheartedly into celebrating both Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Much like the vacationers who crammed the sites of Europe this past summer we found ourselves in crowds wherever we went during the days just after Thanksgiving and right up to the end of the year. It was as though everyone was ready for a bacchanal unlike anything they had seen since 2019. The world was anxious to get back to normal and in the process we seemed to create an abnormal situation. 

The stores were filled with shoppers who descended on the goods like moths in a closet filled with wool. By mid December it looked as though looters had stripped the shelves of anything that might be used in the season. There were long lines at checkout stations that demanded both patience and fortitude. Amazon vans and their drivers became so familiar on neighborhood streets that we began to wave at the drivers as they delivered the boxes filled with gifts for friends and family. It felt as though the world had come back to life with a vengeance. 

I live in the fourth largest metropolitan area in the United States and to say that the holiday traffic was congested would be an understatement. It did not seem to matter what time of day that I chose to travel, I was unable to avoid traffic jams on both the freeways and side roads. I was so happy to see things coming back to life that I decided just to enjoy the realization that perhaps all of the terrible illness, loss and suffering of the last few holiday seasons had mostly come to an end. I simply smiled at the thought of so much life still brimming every place that I went. 

Our family was finally able to get everyone back together on Christmas Eve. It was wonderful to see all of the people on the many branches of our family tree in one space. The celebration was only tinged with a bit of sorrow because one person was still at home battling a very serious illness and another had died early in the fall. Otherwise we were one big and happy group hugging and celebrating that most of us were still here. Somehow nothing meant more to us than reuniting with all of the old traditions and trappings. 

Mostly life was feeling quite wonderful to me in spite of injuring my ankle while decorating my home. I was getting around nicely with a medical boot on my foot and I had managed to prepare a reduced version of my Christmas Day celebration with family. I realized that I was so out of practice with the mega revelry that I had enjoyed during the entire month of December that I was somewhat exhausted but determined to keep up the pace. After all, it was time to set aside the past and look to a brighter future. 

I decided that a bonafide celebration of New Year’s Eve was in order. We had always done something special on that evening over the years. For quite some time we had parties with my cousins and their spouses. When they began to move to different parts of the country we started a new tradition with our friends, Bill and Pat. Each year we met them at a restaurant and then chose a movie to see. After the film we gathered at their home and waited for the countdown to the new year. We’d toast each other with wine or champagne while hugging and kissing each other and believing that we would surely follow the tradition well into our old age. Sadly Pat died and then Bill also left this earth. It was time to do something new once again.

For several years Mike and I had dinner on New Year’s Eve at a lovely restaurant called Nino’s.  In 2019 we were there not knowing how much things would suddenly change. We enjoyed a delicious meal and exchanged greetings with the owner of the place. A few weeks later that sweet man would be dead from Covid. Shortly thereafter his restaurant would close forever. We would sit at home attempting to make sense of it all and hoping that somehow the next year would be better. It was not until this year that we had a sense that normalcy had somehow finally arrived. My response was to make reservations for dinner on New Year’s Eve with a restaurant located near a waterway. It seemed as though it would be a great way to demonstrate our hopefulness and gratitude for our many blessings. 

Our first hint that something was not quite right was the traffic jam that made us thirty minutes too late for our reserved time. Luckily the people at the restaurant were understanding and assured us that we would still get a table whenever we arrived. I smiled inside at the thought of everyone wanting to just be normal again, so I relaxed as we inched toward our destination. Then I saw thousands of people jockeying for a place to park in the popular area that includes an amusement park, bars and a number of restaurants. When we finally reached the perimeter of the place I got out of the car to claim a place at the eatery while my husband searched for a spot to leave our automobile. 

Just moving through the unbelievable crowd was difficult, especially with the clunky boot that I  wore on my mending foot. With determination I finally entered my destination which was a madhouse of people simply showing up and hoping to get a place to eat. The harried workers smiled through the turmoil and assured me that I would be seated in a few minutes so I felt relieved and sat down satisfied that all would be well, only it was not. After thirty minutes of hunting my husband had still not found a place to park. He told me to give up and find him somewhere on the side of the road in a no parking zone. 

I sadly informed the lovely folks that we would not be able to use our reservation after all just at the moment when they were ready to take me to a table. I walked out wondering if this was a sign that the new year would not be so great or if it was simply a way of noting that the past was behind us and new ways should reign. I glumly got into the car while my husband and father-in-law joked that we might find something frozen at home that would do for dinner. Nonetheless I was determined not to surrender to a ruined evening. I suddenly remembered that a Cracker Barrel where I often took my mother on Friday nights was not that far away. Surely we would be able to get in there. After all, who chooses Cracker Barrel on a celebratory night?

Surely enough the place was almost empty. I felt silly walking inside with my red sequined top but I was hungry and I knew that the food would be good. We had a lovely waitress named Jenny who doted over us so pleasantly. Our dinner was wonderful and best of all it was quiet. There was even good music playing in the background. Somehow I thought of my mother and her simple ways of enjoying life. I felt her spirit and optimism telling me to go with the flow and just have fun. She would have noted how blessed we were to find such a wonderful place to sate our hunger. Nothing about the evening would have stolen her joy, so I instantly decided that it was not going to steal mine either.

It was late when we returned home. Our neighbors were celebrating up and down the block. The teenagers who had once been tiny tots waved as they set off fireworks and giggled. There was music and joy everywhere I looked. We went inside and each sipped on a glass of wine while we waited for the ball to drop in Times Square. An hour later we shouted Happy New Year in our own Central Time Zone. We went outside to witness beautiful fireworks lighting up the sky around us. It was a wonderful beginning to a New Year. We had made it and somehow I knew that the future would indeed be good and no doubt adventurous as well.