30th December, day before New Years Eve. I feel like the condemned man eating his last meal. No, it’s not, but that’s what it feels like. Not that I’ve ever been, oh you know what I mean. Don’t get all pedantic on me.
Dauphinoise potatoes, roast chicken with spinach, leeks and peas in butter. Seeing as I haven’t eaten much the last few days, a cholesterol hit and a dose of white wine should balance things out. Oh come on, I’m trying my best to be optimistic here, strewth. Give me a break.
Why do I feel like the condemned man? well this New Years Eve is another first. My first without my soulmate. Christmas Day was fairly easy, a lovely start with my very special daughter, Roannah and her mum Annie, a friend indeed. That was followed by two days in York with Amy, Dave, Lucy and Matthew. All made life a little easier.
The Saturday before was a different story. That would have been mine and Sallys anniversary. I lost the plot a touch. Not for the first time. It was always a significant day, we celebrated it with a pot of tea and shortbread biscuits. Just like our first date. Significant, but not something we particularly celebrated. So I put up the Christmas tree, decorated it and had a pot of tea. Think she would have liked that.
New Years Eve was something else altogether.
It was a day of reflection and looking ahead, pretty normal for most people. A good long afternoon dog walk, a pot of tea. Relax, prepare food and then a few pints at the Brown Cow, early, before it got busy. Home. Soak in a hot bath with a glass of champagne.
Lots of good food, a buffet of delights. More champagne, hugs, kisses and above all, music. Lots of music. Dancing too. We liked a bit of a bop in the kitchen while we cooked. More music. We looked back on our year, the highs and the lows, laughed a lot, sometimes cried, but not too often. Got silly, giggled and looked into each others eyes. We planned our future, holidays, visits, inviting visitors, meals and our garden. At midnight we would raise a glass to absent friends and open the front door to let in the New Year. And so to bed. Our time.
So, what happens tomorrow? I have no idea. I really don’t. Neither of us liked noise and crowds much, so we never went in for pubs and parties. Home alone? Long night and enough drink to sink a small boat, hmm could get very unpleasant. Early night, try and sleep through the noise? Always a first time. Don’t want company, don’t want to be alone. Not everyday I use the word, but today, it is perfect. A dichotomy.
Whatever happens, it wont be the same. It will never be the same.
For any of us.