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  • Writer's pictureT.I. Lowe

New Year's Traditions & Superstitions

Updated: Mar 13

My family has a few New Year’s Day traditions. The Tournament of Roses Parade is one of them. I think it would so neat to work on one of those floats. Of course we have to have something good to eat while watching it. Our meal always includes collard greens and black-eyed peas. This tradition is to insure good fortune in the upcoming year. I’m not one for superstition, but why chance it? Plus, this Southern girl loves her some collards.

Oh, and we do abide by one superstition: Do not do laundry on New Year’s Day. If you do, you’ll be washing for the dead! Now, I kinda like my crowd and I’d rather not chance it, so we always make sure to have all the laundry done by New Year’s Eve.

There’s another tradition that is popular not just in the South, but all over the country. It’s the notorious New Year’s Resolution. I’m sure most of us have set some. I gave up on this tradition a long time ago, because I wasn’t very good at keeping the resolutions. This past Saturday morning, I did wake up with the mindset of wanting to do better. Period. Just strive to do better. And at the end of the day, I want to give myself grace on it being good enough.

Okay, I lied. We do have one more superstition we adhere to: Whatever you do on New Year’s Day, you’ll be doing for the rest of the year. I made sure to spend time in God’s word, I added two thousand words to my manuscript, I spent some quiet time with my husband before the kids woke up, then I spent time with them. I also made sure not to do much housework…

I’m looking forward to this year and I hope you are too.

Until I Don’t Excerpt:

The lights wrapped around the porch railing twinkle in hope for the New Year ahead, and I couldn’t be more excited to begin one. My fingers feel like ice cubes, but midnight is nearing, so I keep fastening the vinyl tags to the strand of lights. Before the last tag is secured, Asher’s monster headlights light up the entire porch, nearly blinding me.

Shielding my eyes, I grouch out as he opens his door, “Does such a colossal vehicle really necessitate high beams?” Everything goes back to a soft darkness all of a sudden, but leaves my poor eyes unfocused and feeling like I’ve just spent the last hour staring directly into the sun.

He says nothing—big shocker—just strolls up to the porch and studies the tags. I know he wants to ask. It’s obvious in his glances between reading them.

“These are my resolutions for the year,” I answer his unspoken question.

“Isn’t that supposed to be private?”

“Not mine. It’s easier to stick to something when you put it out there.” I keep adding the tags as he keeps reading.

Make Asher smile?” he reads out loud, forming it into a question.

“Oh yes. And I won’t stop until I succeed.” I narrow my eyes and point sternly, hoping to mark that one off this list right now, but all I get is a blank look in return.

He reads another one as I continue working. “Uganda.”

“That’s a tricky trip I’ve been working on. So far, I keep plowing into walls, but I’m resolved to make it happen.”

“Those walls are your indicators that Uganda isn’t a place you need to be,” Mr. Bossy Pants says with enough authority that I’m sure could make the toughest guy pee his pants. But I’m not much on being bullied to back down on what really matters, and Uganda matters.

“I hear ya, soldier,” I say, brushing off his order.

Asher halts when he finally makes it over to his side of the porch and points to the tags floating in the wind. “Are these my resolutions?”

“Yes. I thought I’d help you out.”

“I don’t do resolutions.”

“Of course you don’t. That’s why I did it for you.” I add another tag as he reads his.

Stop using the word don’tBe nice to NeenaBecome Neena’s friendSmile at least once a day…” Asher keeps reading out loud as he moves along the string of lights.

There’s no holding the smile back, knowing he’s probably annoyed by my resolution declarations.

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