The Year Closes

The Year Closes

    The other night we met with a few friends; the dinner and gaiety being off the charts, the warm tidings and wassailing (by the way, as heard on NPR's show, to "carol" is to sing and to "wassail" is to toast, taken from an old Norse phrase to "be healthy") far greater than usual.  And it made me think of other friends whom we had yet to call or to have dinner with; as it was with us, so it seemed to be with them, our friendship shifted down (if that's a rude but possibly correct term) to a lower level simply out of priorities.  We were all too busy, too filled with other obligations around the holidays and now having to face the dreaded "scheduling" of our days, as if we were now cultural dignitaries with massive amounts of obligations and dinners and parties to attend out of necessity.  Uh, no, or at least not that we know of (an interesting take on this come's from the new book Photograph by former Beatle, Ringo Starr, telling of their arrival and show in the Phillipines, a gala state dinner planned afterward that they knew nothing about; knackered after such a long flight and show, the Beatles finished their performance and went straight to their hotel rooms to sleep, only to awaken to a scandal...they had snubbed the royal family and country, and still knew nothing about what it was all about; the violent reaction actually led to the beginning of the end of their touring, making them feel that things were getting a bit out of hand with this "beatle-mania" -- but we never knew, says Starr).  No, we weren't and aren't those dignitaries knowingly or unknowingly snubbing dinners.  This was simply a time of year when friendships are called in, so to speak, and peoples you haven't seen or heard from in weeks or months or years are suddenly thrust into the melee and a flow chart you never needed is now looking pretty darn good.  And through it all, as one of my friends added, one can only look back and think (in her words), "...and aren't we lucky."

    And aren't we, though?  Having people around and friends and company will someday be highlights of our memories past, days of our youth (even our 60s and 70s!) now bringing a smile to our face as we possibly sit alone in a motorized bed, the pull-cord for the nurse's station now seeming to grow more and more difficult to reach. Gatherings with friends, especially around this time of year, seem to reach a special peak, perhaps because so many people have come from distant places and are all now gathered in one spot.  Much time may have passed and perhaps you don't quite get to visit with everyone, but by the end of the night, it is usually good enough.  You leave renewed a bit, you've given a hug or a peck on the cheek, told them how good it was to see them and, for the most part, that might be it for another year.  One always hopes not at times like those, your intentions are good that no, this year you will make the effort to see them much more often; but then alas, another end of the year arrives and you realize that you have done poorly, another resolution of sorts gone down the drain.

    It happens, and it is usually forgiven.  Our world is a busy one for many and often families and circles of friends have grown and one is also beginning to realize that making time for oneself has become equally important.  Often my wife and I return home and relish the simplicity of a quiet home to ourselves, our normal routine coming back to comfort us as a slow, self-closing door.  The outside disappears for a bit, the eating and celebrating and laughter --as good as it was-- now over.  But none of that takes away from what was enjoyed earlier.  Still, flipping all of that over (possibly because my mother is now engaged in many activities at her new living facility, but nearby is an "assisted living" facility where the people are much more dependent on outside help and the lobby and activity room seems much quieter and lonelier, at least to my eyes), think of the many people who crave that visitation, that feeling of many people gathered 'round to just chat and circle around them as if they were back in the groove and not involuntarily trapped in some bed with rails, unable to move or get out or perhaps even go to the bathroom without help.  For them, having too many friends and too many family meetings is almost a distant dream, a visit of even five minutes from someone being a highlight, or at least a speck of light, in an otherwise dreary day.

    It all made me think of the poem by Robert Burns (and now suspected to be, even in his words, an adaptation of an earlier poem by James Watson some 75 years earlier, according to Wikipedia), Auld Lang Syne.  If you hear the words, one thinks that it becomes a song saying that the past is the past: Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?  Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne*? CHORUS: For auld lang syne, my jo, for auld lang syne, we’ll tak' a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.  And here, the lyrics from James Watson (who also claimed to have pieced together the song from other earlier songs):  Should Old Acquaintance be forgot, and never thought upon; The flames of Love extinguished, and fully past and gone: Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold, that loving Breast of thine; That thou canst never once reflect On old long syne. CHORUS: On old long syne my Jo, On old long syne, That thou canst never once reflect, On old long syne.  But Wikipedia notes that the Burns' version has question marks and thus becomes a reflection of whether one should forget the past?  Says Wikipedia: The song's Scots title may be translated into standard English as "old long since", or more idiomatically, "long long ago", "days gone by" or "old times". Consequently, "For auld lang syne", as it appears in the first line of the chorus, might be loosely translated as "for (the sake of) old times"...The song begins by posing a rhetorical question as to whether it is right that old times be forgotten, and is generally interpreted as a call to remember long-standing friendships.  Thomson’s Select Songs of Scotland was published in 1799 in which the second verse about greeting and toasting was moved to its present position at the end.

    The end of the year is always a good time to look back and to look forward.  Often we tend to look back on our accomplishments and to do the same going forward...we will lose weight, we will learn another language, we will sell that invention, we will get rich!  But maybe, just maybe, a better glance back and forward would simply be to realize that we are already rich, and to take stock of the relationships around us, to recognize just how valuable those friends and family members are and to not shove them down the list for the next concert or that movie on television.  Not all the time, of course, but perhaps an exception now and then.  Should old acquaintances be forgotten?  One day, we just may be that person reaching for that pull cord, wanting to be changed and be fed and be visited; and we may just wonder whatever happened to "days gone by."  Don't let that happen.

    Happy New Year to all...it's a beginning!

*From Wikipedia: ^*syne = "since" or "then" – pronounced like "sign" rather than "zine".