Here we are at the end of the year. Wow. For the first time in recent memory, I’ve heard no discussion from my friends as to evening plans, even though for the last eight years, at least, our evening plans consisted of going to bed, and discussions were basically a formality. So, the advent of this new year will be like most of the recent past, it will just show up, and we’ll start again at one.

It’s fun to think, when that happens, that you can box up the old year and start fresh. But given all the nasty things that happened last year, I’m fairly certain I’m going to be totting some of them around with me into the new year. For instance, I’m still wondering when my little rural county will get the new Covid vaccine, and even though it’s been five months since my wife died, it seems like yesterday. Of course, the new year is a nice way to remind us that looking ahead is a great way to deal with a nasty past. You keep your eyes front.

But that’s for tomorrow, today is a summing up day. The newscasts we’ll recount all the famous people who died, the year’s events will be re-hashed, and someone will try to tell us what it all means. And we’ll watch because, well, why not. It’s part of the ritual. We’ll wax nostalgic, too, sing Auld Lang Syne, or at least hum it because who really knows the words, and cinch up our belts and get ready for tomorrow. And when tomorrow comes, if we’re lucky, we’ll take a cup of kindness, too, and maybe pass it around, because after last year’s bitters, kindness would taste really sweet in the new year.