Hello on a New Year’s afternoon,
When I was a boy, the week after Christmas, as I have noted, was spent at my grandmother’s house. The acreage, located on the North side of Sioux City, was a humble, but homely dwelling rather non-descript to the viewer, but anything but for me because it was where I found safety, joy, and hope. The garage, which was a horse barn at one point, sat at one side of the property, and the big yard that sat between it and the house was often the parking lot for when my grandmother would host events, from her yearly Christmas to a summer steak-fry. I wrote about the Christmas celebration in a recent blog, noting that my sister and I would remain at her house for the remainder of our Christmas break each year. It was probably the happiest week of the year, and a great way to bring in the new year because we went to the bakery, were fed our favorite breakfast year morning, played with new toys, and generally got to be with the person who had been our mother in our pre-school years.
My grandmother was a huge college football fan, and she particularly liked the Nebraska Cornhuskers in the days of Johnny Rodgers and Bob Devaney. Each New Year’s Day, back in the day of four main bowl games, she would bet me on the outcome of each. She almost always won overall, but she was generally kind and let me off the hook monetarily. I think my appreciation for college sports (which has evolved to some extent) began with her yearly commitment to the New Year’s Day Bowl games. We would sit in the small den, where the television was, and watch games the entire day. I think what she offered, as importantly as her time to my sister and me, was her continual desire to be involved in our lives in a meaningful manner. Her love for us was as predictable as the calendar where we spent the final week of each year at her house.
The reality of the changing calendar seems to go hand in hand with the idea of some requisite need to recalibrate our lives; that at 11:59.59 the next second, which heralds in the next numerical year automatically provide some sense of tabula rasa. We magically renew ourselves into some better version of ourselves, the new improved, more capable, better disciplined, and remarkably successful human either we hope for or somehow believe God intends for us. What are some of those resolutions we believed ourselves capable of achieving? What sort of character flaws have I, with all the belief my little heart could muster, believed I would overcome? When I look back over the years, the decades, I find there is little in terms of some specific resolution I might have made that created any profound change in my life. More recently, I have not really made any sort of resolutions, though I am not sure if I can say why. As I ponder that fact, is there anything I wish I might have resolved, I might have attempted to alter? My immediate response is no. Perhaps it’s because I believe I am just who I am. Perhaps it’s because I seriously doubt there is much in my basic character that will change. I do believe there are places making some change or some modification in my own behavior or response to others is worth considering, but does that require some resolution? I guess my answer is simply no.
On the other hand, perhaps if the turn over that occurs from December 31st to January 1st results in introspection, that is probably efficacious. Of course, in a sort of can we break free from our illusions? manner (the cave is alive and well) do we ever allow the light that comes with life and experience to actually guide us? Are we capable of breaking free from the chains that bind us to our past, to our limitations? Much like the prisoner who comes back to free those in the cave, too often our belief that our resolutions are either folly or unachievable, so we discard the notion. It is merely a lack of discipline or something more foundational, more innate to our humanity? As I ponder the last year, and imagine the possibilities of a first complete year in my 70s, there are a multitude of thoughts and concerns, some about myself, some about those I love, and particularly family. Then there are friends and acquaintances, those I come into contact with on a regular basis, and then there is the country and the world. Is it possible to make some difference on all those levels?
When I think about some of my New Year’s Eves over the years, there is quite an extreme, in spite of some of the commonality. One New Year’s Eve. while bartending at a nightclub, the establishment turned into a brawl, with cops, broken tables and chairs, glasses being thrown, to the point it looked like what you might see in a movie. My best friend at the time, who is also working there pulled a gun on me. I grabbed it and twisted it, finding out it was loaded when it shot him – not a great way to spend New Year’s Eve. Fortunately, his wounds were not life-threatening, and he recovered. That was a serious wake up call. The number of times I worked that night in my 20s or most of them. The number of times that I’ve gone out and celebrated are very few. There were a few years in Poland with students that are certainly memorable. In the last five, I went out for dinner once. Otherwise, I had to set an alarm to wake up and see the new year in. I am appreciative of traditions and wanting to celebrate, but my desire to get loud or crazy was never really who I was or am. I remember the New Year’s Eve with the millennium, and I would have to go to work the next day because of Y2K. Those of you old enough to remember, we were worried that our computers would not know what to do and that everything will go haywire. Of course, it did not, and my workday at Gateway was incredibly boring. We got to go home early.
So where does all this leave me as I begin a new year? I have certainly reflected on the past 15 months as a retired person, and it’s been a bit of bumpy road. Nevertheless, I am blessed and fortunate to have experienced so many things, to have learned so many things. As I move into this next year, there are many things to attend to, and there are some significant things I hope to accomplish. Most of it is manageable, but will require discipline, thoughtfulness, and stepping outside my comfort zone. That is not an easy thing for me to do, but it is always necessary if I’m going to move beyond those things that I know. It doesn’t take a specific calendar day or the change of the final number in a year in a year. Instead, it takes consistency, reflection, and perhaps appropriately it takes a word that is etymologically related to the idea of resolution. It takes resolve. As I move into this new year, which is now a couple days old, I must resolve to be consistent, to follow through on that which I say I want to do. It must be disciplined to set boundaries and not allow myself to be caught up in things that might detract from my well-being. I must continue to learn how to be both kind and firm when expressing what I will or will not do. None of this is accomplished because the calendar changed and we’ve begun a new year. All of these things are part of who I am and who I’ve been. The real question now is who do I want to become? Even now, are there changes and is evolution to some extent something I see worth accomplishing? Time, hours, days, weeks, and months will tell. We know them by looking at the calendar. So is it therein the change exists?
Welcome to 2026 and thanks for reading.
Michael
thewritingprofessor55 