Tommy was proud of me last night: I hosted our annual NYE party.
And, after a late afternoon seriously-missing-him-why-am-I-doing-this crying spell, I had a grand time.
Why did I do it? In no particular order …
It gave me a deadline to get Tom’s “man-cave” whipped back into shape (this is the room that was repaneled, recarpeted, repainted, etc. due to the flood) — as that room is where the party is centered.
We’ve hosted this party every year for as long as any of us can remember. Having the party seemed like less energy than having to figure out something else to do! (However, I didn’t realize how hard at times it was going to be. Sigh.)
Hosting the kid-centric party was a way to thank my many awesome neighbors who have helped me so much since Tommy died … as this house is a very family-friendly venue. (I’ve had a “wrestling mat” outlined in blue painting tape on the living room floor for nearly three weeks now, courtesy of Rose’s boys.) The houseful of little neighborhood kids gladdens my heart, and allowed me to be kissed countless times around midnight, although for most of the kisses I either needed to bend over quite far, or pick up the giver, to receive them.
The party was different — a much smaller guest list, a less rowdy crowd, no Tommy beaming from his captain’s chair behind the bar as the chaos swirled around him, no huge clean-up the next day (thanks neighbors!). Seeing the dozens of shoes inside the front door (many of them girls’ sparkling, pink, four-inch tall boots fairly useless in the eight inches of snow we have), and the usual cascading pile of coats (again, many of them shades of pink) in the hallway invoked many memories of years before, and many tears. But, this tradition is a part of my history, so I had to find a way to live with it more comfortably. That’s happening, as last night we put new twists on an old tradition — like the non-stop wrestling tournament.
The evening wasn’t tear-free. Nor was it problem-free: the carpet suffered its first spill (an ADULT) and (gasp!!!) everyone brought snacks, but no one brought chocolate.
At the end of the evening, I thanked my brother-in-law for coming, especially since he’d admitted this was not how he wanted to spend his NYE.
“No — thank you instead!” he responded. “Because this was exactly how I wanted our kids to spend NYE.”
His sentiments were a common denominator among guests, who happily traded elegant cuisine and a romantic evening for hotdogs and bean dip (but no chocolate!) while their kids wrestled merrily. I’m surrounded by fantastic family and friends, and I know, that while 2010 will have its challenges, they’ll work to make it a happy new year.
We’re off to a good start. Other than of course, that chocolate issue …
