New Year's days...
I remember Mass, because it was a holy day of obligation (is it still?).
I remember bright southern California sunshine...maybe some frost on the lawn, maybe some snow capping Mt. Baldy.
If it was a cold and dry (not unusual for California winter) I remember how static would make my skirt stick to my tights.
I remember enjoying the Christmas tree, still holding a place of honor in the living room. The scent would be strong and sweet by now, because the poor thing would definitely be drying out (even though kept in water). The tree would remain for almost another week until the feast of the Epiphany on January 6th. This always pleased me because it meant the house would still have holiday decorations for my birthday on the 4th.
I remember watching the Rose Bowl parade on television. My mom loved to watch parades. One year I recall we even took a drive over to Pasadena to view the floats, well after the parade had ended.
I remember baked ham and kielbasa. There would still be poppyseed cake (or maybe my mom baked a second batch after Christmas). There was 7-up and perhaps Coke in the fridge, this seeming to be the only time of year those sodas were in the house.
I remember eating early because holiday dinners never started after sundown. Afterward there would be a multitude of sweets, cookies, See's candy, leftover pazcki if we were lucky, fruitcake or fudge from family friends, all set on top of the white cloth that covered the dining room table (or maybe it was the pointsettia tablecloth by this time). I'd have my fill of these (I don't remember many or any restrictions) and then go review my presents from Christmas which remained unwrapped, of course, but neatly stacked under the tree. I have no idea why I left these things there so long.
The light of New Year's day would fade. Invariably I watched something on TV, maybe there was a holiday special (or marathon of weird movies on one of the local channels). I'd be excited for my upcoming birthday but a little sad for the holidays to end, having to head back to school, quite possibly the next day. Still, even then I could feel a special kind of energy that was new and fresh and full of potential.
And today, fifty or so years later, I sit with my tea in a quiet house, the Christmas tree lit and candles burning. I can hear the birds singing on this unusually warm New Year's morning, here on the opposite side of the country from where I spent most of my life. I've got some work to do, and some creative play as well. There's no ham baking, although black eyed peas are cooking. There are no parades playing on the flat screen in the living room. My mom is gone now and I thought of her and her delight in the Rose Bowl parade and how over the years she'd never miss the opportunity to call and wish a happy new year at midnight. And in a weird, alternate way of keeping that tradition, I reached out to all my dear ones (not necessarily at midnight) by phone call or text or Skype, to spread those good wishes as well. Happy new year! May 2019 be a good one.
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