Happy New Year circa 1973

As the time ticks closer to midnight and the new year looms ahead, I find myself so timid and somewhat afraid.

What I realized is I have never really celebrated on New Years Eve. Ok, just a few times.  Most always they were with my husband only or a few close friends. I can count the times on one hand.

When we were dating that first year, Jimmy had driven up for Christmas and New Years.  We were going to go to a club.
I had been busy sewing a cute velvet dress to wear.
Hours passes as I worked diligently to complete it and I felt worse and worse.

After finishing the hem, I hung it up and looked at it from across the room as I laid down on my bed feeling very tired.
"Pretty" I remember saying to myself.

The next thing you know,
I heard fireworks outside by some of our neighbors.
I thought that was odd to set them off too early.

I got up and ventured upstairs to the living room. Jimmy was asleep on the couch.  My parents  had gone out and the place was cold and dark.

I felt miserable with a sore throat and felt feverish.

I sat down on a chair across from the couch and watched the sparkles of the fireworks reach over the tips of the trees on the ridge. I watched him sleeping and dare not wake him up.

When I got up to go back to bed, he heard me and sat up.  "Happy New Year,  honey!", he told me.  "I was really dreading going out tonight so I'm glad we are home just you and me.  I know you don't feel well."  He got up made me some soup and gave me some aspirin.  Just a very normal loving thing to do.

I think about that night every year.  We didn't need a party.

That will not change.

Cathy
12.31.13