Well, my friends, did you see the new year in, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? Someone had to, as I most certainly did not. As a matter of fact, I was uncharacteristically blah. No festive napkins, no party poppers – I did not even attempt to keep my peepers open ’til midnight. I went to bed at 9:30 and slept right through the fireworks.
Perhaps this means my year will be the thing to shine? We shall just see, won’t we …
Of course, I did celebrate. My mum and I went to “the home” to celebrate with my grama and her friends … who, in turn, were celebrating the new year with Paris (France, not Hilton). It was a rousing party filled with music, noise makers, hats, food, libations, and prizes! We each received a raffle ticket. I offered to read my neighbor’s ticket since he left his glasses up in his room. I also had my grama’s ticket, along with my own.
Now my mom and I decided that if our numbers were called, we would pretend it was grama’s. That’s precisely what I had on my mind when the top ticket was called.
“You won!” I said to my grama. “You won! You won! Say something – you’re a winner!!!”
Right about the time my grama’s hand shot up in the air and started waving wildly, I realized the ticket was neither mine, nor hers. It belonged to the gentleman sitting next to me.
“Oh wait! It’s not you! Wrong ticket!!! You didn’t win … so sorry … he won.” I said this as I pointed to the gentleman sitting next to me; like it wasn’t rude enough that I completely botched my job. Obviously, I completely fall apart under pressure. Sigh.
Of course, said gentleman was truly a gentleman and pretended he was the least bit interested in the CD, handing it back to my grama. In God’s great mercy, his number … or my grama’s number, as the case may be … was the last to be called. But alas, some old woman up front either couldn’t see her number, or just plain decided to take matters in her own hands. Whatever the case, she was not to be trifled with and won the prize. And that was that.
So yes, I did celebrate. I did have fun – right up until that last little bit. But it wasn’t anything big and clamoring that made the start of this year great. It was a quiet stroll through Kathryn Albertson Park. The temperature was all of 32 degrees F. The park was still, the ponds iced. We greeted perfect strangers – pink cheeked and bundled – and took photos as best we could with frozen fingers. It was just what we were needing – a simple reminder that life doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. Sometimes even the gnarled can possess a hint of grace.