We associate the holidays with parties, especially New Year’s Eve. If you’re like me, you spent some time during the past two weeks reminiscing about gatherings you’ve attended through the years.
I’m also thinking of the great party Ken and I missed more than fifty years ago. During the first years of our marriage, we welcomed each new year with the same group of friends we had known since high school or before. Today, most of those folks are gone but they were fun people.
One year, I had a cold and we stayed home. I’d had tuberculosis when I was nineteen and spent five months in a sanitarium recovering. Whenever I got a cold, I took it very easy.
The others had reservations at the posh Corral on Henry Avenue in Beloit, Wisconsin. Like happens on that special night, the prices were higher for less food. Everyone was still hungry when they returned to Bill and Shirley’s house for the remainder of the evening. The first thing the gang did was raid the refrigerator. Then they settled down to a few rounds of “500” while they waited for the magic hour of midnight.
Ken and I spent a quiet evening and were in bed before the ball dropped in New York City.
Afterwards, when we talked with several of the attendees, it seemed we’d missed the greatest party of all time. Other years, we’d always enjoyed the evening but nothing outstanding.
The more I’ve thought about it, do our memories enhance the past occasions? As we talk about them, do they become bigger and Better?
Were they really the “good old days?” We were younger, which has its advantages. Would I really want to be a child again? At the time, I could hardly wait to grow up. High school; had its problems, too–the biggest complaint I made to my strict parents was, “Everyone else can.”
I enjoy our adult children and our adult grandchildren; I have my memories of the two generations as kids.
How do you view your past?