Bitter Sweet New Years Eves

So New Years is Eve is kind of a wierd time for me. Up until about last year (when we got the kids) we used to have these huge New Years Eve bashes at our house. I mean they were pretty big. Now Im just looking forward to spending a quiet night at home. We play some games, maybe watch a movie and eat all kinds of crap (what we all need right?).

New Years eves have mostly good memories for me, and one terrible one that is always hanging in the back of my mind no matter what I do. When I was a kid my mom always made all kinds of awesome snack stuff...always made onion dip for chips, which was awesome and to this day eating onion dip is part of New Years Eve memories.In the 80's one year, it was just my mom and I one New Years Eve and we were eating a bunch of stuff and I was watching MTV and making her watch some videos too, Duran Duran sticks out in my mind mostly, the "Rio" video...what year was that anyway?

One New Years Eve I spent under the Eiffel Tower, and it was completely crazy...bottle rockets or whatever just whizzing by your ear. Dangerous, but fun. Paris is nuts on New Years Eve, at least it was that year.

One year when I was eleven my best friend who was 12 died in the children's hospital in Seattle. On New Years Eve. Her little sister, who was 8, was staying at our house because my parents were taking care of her while her parents were at the hospital, as they often were during their daughters fight with cancer. I remember having the typical snacks made by my mom and it had been snowing for the past day and there was a lot of white stuff on the ground. It was dark outside, and K and I were hyper from all the junk we ate and we were running around playing in the snow in my back yard, and I might be wrong about this, but I believe it was right after midnight, or right before, I forget. My mom called us in and said that her parents would be coming to pick her up. That is all she said, and it was all she had to say...to me anyway. My mom was able to hold it together until K went home, then she confirmed to me that P had indeed passed away.

Not a New Years eve passes when I dont think about that. How as children, we were able to put the inevitable behind us and enjoy the moment at hand. Maybe she didnt really understand at eight years old, but I did. Somehow I was able to have a good time that night despite being awaare of the cloud that was looming over head, waiting to burst at any moment. Maybe it was a gift that it happened on that night, not that I would have forgotten her, but I think that her memory and the memory of her passing is that much stronger because God chose to bring her home on that night. Its a painful time, yet I am able to think of all the good times that we had together too, and I thank God that I was able to know her if only for a little while.