Auld Lang Syne ...

I waited up to see the crystal ball drop last night as tons of confetti fell over thousands of cheering people while they lifted  cups of kindness high  to welcome in another year.

Phillip and I I were faithful spectators every year ... he, from his hospital bed ... I, from my recliner.   We appeared to be warm and comfortable in our snug little Tennessee Apartment, but   our spirits were actually in New York City's famous Time Square.  

at least his was ...

mine was not quite so dedicated to the event.

I'd say, "Phillip, do we really need to see this all the way to the midnight countdown?"

He'd say, "Oh, Yeah, Jonelle.  We can't duck out early.  The crystal ball might break on its way down and we'd have bad luck all year."

"We can't possibly have bad luck, Phillip, because we're going to eat black-eyed peas tomorrow."

(long worn out sigh from the hospital bed ...)

"Jonelle, I've told you and told you ... black eyed peas are animal food.  Up North it's fed to horses."

Me:  "Well, tomorrow, you're gonna be eating like a horse."

Phillip:  "Turnip greens too?   Oh, no.  Promise me we won't have turnip greens."

Leaving my recliner, I move close beside his bed to whisper in his ear ... "you worry too much, ..."

"Kissing stops worries." he grinned.

As my lips touch his I hear an excited voice from tv ... Ten, Nine, Eight ... I back away.  "Phillip, the countdown has started."

"Who cares?"  His one good sweet precious hand pulls me back to what really matters.

Final countdown ended.

Tender kisses became precious memories.

I loved this good man totally and completely for thirteen wonderful years, and he loved me back with all his heart and soul.   We often said we were the luckiest two people in the world ... but it was the kind of luck that could only have come from God.

Black eyed peas had nothing to do with it.

Happy New Year, everybody.

Happy New Year!