Robyn had set her alarm. She wanted to see a local television countdown to the New Year but dozed right through it. Each year her favorite weather gal and handsome on-air partner perform a music and dance routine, followed by a slew of “media personalities” and minor performers. The program was about the last I would have chosen to watch, yet there I was, chuckling smugly while a series of one-name-one-hit wonders dressed in tight pants and short skirts pranced and writhed suggestively on makeshift stages, while Robyn snoozed away peacefully.
This New Year’s Eve day preceding the big countdown could not have been drearier. The cold rain and stiff wind that greeted me in the morning when I opened the rear door to let Lola out persisted until it was nearly completely dark. Finally, for the first time all day, I left the house to walk the two blocks to fetch our pizza and salad, greeted by a penetrating and bone-chilling dampness. I scurried home with our pizza, which remained piping hot because it was uncut.
***
Our original plan for the holiday had been to drive to Ohio to welcome in the New Year with Bob and Linda. I was looking forward to seeing our friends again. Since Bob began his fight with cancer several years back, every visit seems precious. He is either fortunate or resolute, possibly both, because he so far has survived lung cancer and learned to cope with brain cancer, aided by a good medical team and Linda’s love.
However, this past Friday I received a call from Linda, who informed me that since Christmas Day Bob had been laid low by a combination of chest congestion, severe chills, and general malaise. She said his doctors hadn’t identified a specific culprit and Bob tested negative for COVID-19, flu, and RSV. It’s concerning any time Bob has unexplained congestion in his lungs.
We agreed to chat again on Sunday before making a final decision. Then on Sunday as soon as I heard Bob’s voice, I knew our trip would have to be postponed. Secretly, I was relieved because there was snow and freezing rain in the weather forecast from here to there. Sometimes it’s better to be safe than sorry.
The same can be said for what proved to be a particularly quiet New Year’s Eve spent at home with Robyn and Lola. Robyn and I both felt worn out after a hectic end-of-year social calendar and, in Robyn’s case, work schedule. At least I managed to last past midnight.
Meanwhile, we avoided battling the elements, vehicle traffic, and noisy crowds of people to scramble for last-minute, over-priced dinner reservations or manufacture a bit of fun. In the morning, Robyn greeted me with a smile. Lola the Pup was close by, as always.All things considered, a most welcome introduction to 2025.
Then, we heard the tragic news coming out of New Orleans. What a world.
