I like the Dutch term ‘Old Years Day’ more than the American ‘New Years Eve-Day’. It puts the focus on the year just past rather than rushing headlong into the New Year, as we Americans are perhaps apt to do, armed with a long list of resolutions and anxious to get started. I tend towards melancholy on the last day of the year, though not necessarily in a negative sense. The years just seem to be rushing by too quickly, and even though Maarten and I make a conscious effort to enjoy each and every moment of this phase of our lives with young children, I can’t quite figure out where the days go. The extra inches of length, the gangly knees and elbows that don’t fold up neatly in my lap anymore, the slightly distant and arrogant tone that hints at the pre-teen years we’ll be entering before long… where did they come from? And how in the world am I turning 35 this year?
There will be plenty of time for me to look forward, to stress out about any number of small and big challenges we will have to face in the coming year, to botch my resolutions and readjust my too-high expectations of myself, to enjoy family adventures and quiet days at home, to anticipate visits of family and friends this summer… But today I won’t. Not yet. I’ll look back and dwell and remember and get all melancholy and maybe even shed a few tears in my Oliebollen batter.
Happy Old Years Day!