Welcoming the New Year and looking back on others

Each year as we say good bye to the old year, we leave it behind with some regrets, promising ourselves we will live up to our resolutions and expectations that we have for the new year. 

In 1964, as the new year came to fruition, I wondered what it would bring for me and for my husband. In fact I wondered if he would live for another year. We had had so many plans for our life and now all of those dreams were shattered. He had been in a tragic accident and lay in the ICU unit of the Harrisburg hospital swathed in bandages and full of tubes. His one wish was to return to Alaska and to the people that he knew and loved when we were there. This is probably what sustained him during this time. His wish was granted and we returned to the small island of Kivalina, where we had lived for seven months. We were welcomed back by the whole village and although it was mid-May by then we felt as though our new year had finally begun. The snow was waist deep and the sea ice was still frozen. It was winter all over again and a new beginning for both of us. See my memoir to read more about this (Journey Through Fire and Ice) to be published by the end of January.

I think back to so many happy times I had over the years. In Winnipeg, there was always some sort of party and at midnight we would all sing Auld Lang Syne.So many years later, I remember one friend who would go up to a bedroom where all the coats were piled up toavoid the ritual of midnight kissing.

When we moved to Harrisburg, we would leave for our home in Canada the day after Christmas. There was always snow and the week before New Year’s Eve, we would enjoy wonderful times with our friends and families.As families, we all cross country skiied together and went tobogganing. There would be an outdoor picnic at our beach, New Year’s Eve shenanigans with charades, games and sometimes fireworks. The games were followed by a roast beef dinner and toasts to welcome the New Year. New Year”s Day often included a lunch and then we all said our good byes and waited till the summer when we would all be together again. As our children driftted off to university, these times ended.

Last year, my significant other and I went to Oil City, ate in a great restaurant and watched the fireworks there. Other years, we have watched the ball drop at Strawberry Square and joined the masses to watch the fireworks. But as we grow older, many of us find that staying up to greet the New Year is something we don’t have to do anymore.

This past year has been one we will never forget. In March most of us went into social isolation, having food delivered and not leaving our homes unless it was absolutely necessary. We hoped life would return to normal but after a few months most of us realized that was not going to happen. We wore masks, participated in zoom meetings and saw very little of friends or families. Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went and many of us celebrated without a large gathering.

 Life is still  not back to normal but with the promise of a new vaccine and the hope that many of us will be vaccinated soon, we all see a ray of light at the end of the very dark tunnel of the past year. Some of us have lost friends or family to this deadly virus and to those people who have lost loved ones during this time I am sending you an old Eskimo proverb that might comfort you at this time. It is one that I often think of when I gaze at the stars and think of those who have gone before me. To me it is a consoling thought. 

Having lived with the Eskimos (Inuits) in 1964/65 and again in 1969/70 it is a proverb I never heard, but one I will always love.

As I look forward to 2021, I hope it will be a year of peace for our country and a year when covid 19 is finally eradicated. What more could we hope for? A toast to you all for a healthy and happy new year.

Celebrating Christmas

      This week we will probably set up our tree. As a child, I remember decorating our tree with tinsel. We didn’t throw it on but placed it carefully on each branch. When we took the tree down we would take off the tinsel, wind it around  the cardboard and use it again the following year. The ritual continued with my children. 

      Now, my partner, John and I have replaced the tinsel with glass icicles which catch the light and glitter on the tree. I will put on the crystal snowflakes and stars collected for so many years. The only year missing is the year my husband died.  Tiny Tim is part of the tree, a reminder of the Dickens dinners that we celebrated with friends for so many years. The paper mache figure of Friar Tuck will be brought out and placed in the hall —a memory of my beloved sister in law, Lynn.

      And  Santa Claus will have a prominent place as a decoration, a souvenir of the year my younger daughter and I toured college campuses and found the Santa in one of the cities we visited. 

      John and I have added decorations to the tree as well and they have become things that are part  of our memories together. 

      There are clay candy canes painted by the children when they were small. These were probably from one of the Christmases we spent in Winnipeg. I remember we would cut down our own tree with a group of friends. We probably cut down two. The trees were scrawny and we often filled in the tree with branches from the other tree. One of our tree cutting expeditions gave Karen a gift she will remember — the mumps. In my box of decorations, there is a set of musical instruments given to me by a friend in Winnipeg. Perhaps I will add them to the tree and remember her and the fun we had. 

      A crumpled string of paper stars will have an important place on the tree. Karen and Sarah had made this when we spent Christmas in Kotzebue Alaska in 1969.We had no plumbing or running water and no telephone to call families in the lower forty eight. It was a different Christmas for us that year. We had no shiny glass ornaments to hang on a tree. In fact we had no tree. I made simple decorations and the girls helped string the paper stars together. Sarah sat  in her high chair watching while Karen and I cut out gingerbread men from the cookie dough. Karen wondered how Santa would arrive and from time to time she would peer out the frost covered window hoping  he would make an appearance. She wanted to sit on Santa’s knee and ask for presents as she had the year before but there was only one store and no Santa. And yet when I look back on that Christmas, I remember what a special one it was. Christmas Eve, two native girls brought over a present for Karen and Sarah. They showed us the true meaning of Christmas because they had little for themselves but wanted to do something for our children. We were alone in Kotzebue without family but we were invited out for dinner and shared a wonderful celebration with others who made us feel as though we had a family there.

      There are more decorations, I will bring out of the box — so many memories of Christmases past. These are memories that can never be replaced —some happy ones , some filled with sorrow. 

      Today, I will look back to the  year we barely had a Christmas. December 6, 1964 was the day that changed the trajectory of life forever. We lived in a tiny house in Kivalina and that day the temperature was 30 below. My husband Tiger lit a Coleman lantern on the floor which ignited in his face and although we both got outside to safety, he went back to the house to save his notes. I remember feeling rooted to the frozen ground in a state of shock, unable to do more than scream hoping someone would hear me. The night that followed was one I will never forget as Tiger lay on the brink of death. (To find out more about this, read my memoir Journey Through Fire and Ice which will be published mid-January.)

      Family has been such an important part of Christmas for so many years. This year will be a quiet celebration. Like many families, John and I will no doubt be celebrating quietly with each other. No other family members will be with us. Covid has changed the way so many of us will be spending the holiday. When I look around the table this Christmas, I will be grateful that John is with me and we are able to share another year together.

Happy Holidays to all.