New life. Rebirth. Promise. Common connections with the fresh coming of spring, with it's warm scents of new flowers and fresh sap and vibrant colours yawning up through melting snow. Animals stumble from hibernation, animals give birth, animals give life. Crops spring up fresh, getting ready to be harvested in the fall. At its most physical level, spring is all of these things and more.
But I believe they fit the New Year just as well.
The coming of the New Year brings resolutions, reflection, and examination. It is the end of a year that can never return; that can never be revisited, altered, or changed. It brings the chance for people to pause and remember—to celebrate and rejoice. The New Year is not just a reflective moment. After all, we did manage to survive another trip around the sun. We celebrate promise, we contemplate new life, and we experience a rebirth of the world.
But the best thing about this celebration, I find, is that you can do it however you want. With birthdays there's the cake, with Christmas the tree, with Valentine's Day the hearts. They have that special thing you do with those special people in your life. But with New Years "that special thing" can be whatever you want it to. There's no customary gift opening or giving. There's no specific decoration, for we all know that those goofy glasses change with each year, no specific activity, even though drinking and kissing is popular they are not mandatory, and no specific person to share it with, for you can celebrate it with any one you wish regardless of how well you know them.
In a small Ohio town, as the famous ball in New York drops its last couple feet, a loud cry bursts from a boisterous party. Throughout every house wishes of a Happy New Year ring out—noisemakers sound off, well-wishings are exchanged, and a single song ripples through the streets.
Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And days of long ago!
A bubbly blonde and a spicy Latina are tangled up in one of the beds of at this boisterous party, their hands gently groping and their lips exploring. Two glasses of champagne sit on the bedside table, as well as the half empty bottle and a pair of those goofy glasses. They know the promise of hardships and joy awaits them.
In the same house, a tall, awkwardly lipped blonde boy has tucked himself away in a back corner with a pretty dark skinned girl pressed up against him. While both have been drinking all night, they're having a moment of clarity as their lips press warmly together. He's sees the promise of connection, she reflects on the connection they once shared.
A crowd of three sits crammed on a love seat, with a boy in a wheelchair parked beside them. They all have their arms thrown around each other's shoulders and are grinning and laughing wildly. The boy in the wheelchair is half draped over the side of the seat, simply glad to be fairly involved. The mousy brunette and the pretty blonde drink away the memories of the year passed, ready to start fresh come the next morning. The boy is singing loudly and, despite being slightly off key, he gladly sings for his mam and his experiences in this strange American town.
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne!
Down the street in a private backyard two boys stand in the snow with their arms wrapped around each other. Their foreheads are leaning together with the tips of their noses lightly grazing. Their faces are flush, but not just from the cold. They hold hope for the year to come, for it is the only thing they can do.
In the house reigning in this private backyard a tall boy and a small girl are sitting cozy by a fire. The boy's long arms easily encompass her tiny frame, but she doesn't seem to mind as she is cuddled comfortably there. She is looking foreword with nerves and excitement, while he is just glad to be where he is right now. He whispers the song into her ear.
We two have run about the hillsides
And pulled the daisies fine,
But we have wandered many a weary foot
For times gone by.
An Asian boy and girl are leaning across a table for two, kissing gently. Their hands are connected, and the boy is massaging a circle on the back of her hand with his thumb. A dessert sit untouched between them, it's existence forgotten in the presence of an eternity of happiness. With their lips still pressed together she mumbles,
We two have paddled in the stream
From noon until dinner time,
But seas between us broad have roared
Since times gone by.
A boy with a moehawk lightly bounces a nearly sleeping toddler on his hip. He was glad that he could spend this moment with the single love of his life. A dark haired woman watches on fondly; glad to finally be able to bring such joy to someone's life. As the toddler starts to wake, the boy sings her gently back to sleep:
And there is a hand, my trusty friend,
And give us a hand of yours,
And we will take a goodwill drink
For times gone by!
At a party across town, as the cheers and shouts surround them, a curly blond has his arm around the waist of a doe-eyed redhead. Both wear matching plastic hats and can't help but grin and join in as a loud, multi-keyed rendition starts up—
And surely you will pay for your pint,
And surely I will pay for mine!
And we will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by!
A large woman sits alone in her house, a nearly empty bottle of whisky sitting on the side table next to her. Her eyes are red and puffy and she swirls a bronze liquid around in her glass. A single lamp on her other side is the only light on in her house. Her free elbow is propped up on the armrest with her head resting in her hands and fingers lightly rubbing her temple, trying to recall what it was she had done to drive him away. She quietly sings to herself,
For times gone by, my dear
For times gone by,
We will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by.