NEWS YEARS PARTY?

New Year's Eve. Memories of her last year with Charlie flooded her mind. Janice sat alone. He was so sick-- just three months before he died. A trip to the wine store-- a bottle of champagne and two special glasses. She and Charlie settled in the living room (he in his chair, she on the sofa) waiting for the magic hour.

A little past one oclock Janice awoke. Charlie slept.

The champagne was opened two years later but was undrinkable. The glasses were never used.

That was five years ago.

Tonight Janice sat alone at her dining room table with an open champagne bottle and one never used glass. 12:01 AM. "To what we were," she said as she raised her filled glass. Now what to do with the rest of the bottle.

CHRISTMAS WITHOUT CHARLIE

Janice was rooting through the haphazard stack of boxes in the spare room closet-- looking for the small Christmas tree Charlie bought the last Christmas he was alive. They had agreed not to have a tree-- the mess and all. But three days before Christmas Charlie came home from his chemo treatment with a two foot decorated tree.

Charlie died before the next Christmas. The tree had been in storage ever since. It was time to bring it out. Charlie would like that.

The phone rang.

“Carolyn here. How would you like to go tree hunting with us?”
“Who’s us?”
“Mazie and me.”
“Mazie told me they weren’t going to put up a tree this year. Clyde might not even be home from his hospital stay.”
“But he might. And it’s likely his last Christmas. He needs a tree.”

That pitiful little tree somewhere in the closet brought home by Charlie his last Christmas---
“When are we going? Janice asked.
“How about this afternoon. Say one.”
“I’m in.”

Janice found her little tree.

JANICE FIGHT HOLIDAY LONLINESS

JANICE BATTLES LONELINESS

It was the worst time of the year for Janice. The end of December. Christmas, her birthday, New Year’s Eve. Dates celebrated with Charlie for fifty two years. Until he died five years ago. Five years? Had it been five years? It seemed like yesterday in December. Other times it seemed a lifetime ago.

She wasn’t alone; she had friends. Friends who ill, friends who were facing death, friends who were just old. She was alone. Alone means what? No one in your life who shares all your good and bad. No one like Charlie or her sister-- both dead now. No one to share Christmas dinner with; no one to ring in the new year with a kiss. That was one of the worst. For more years than she could remember New Year’s Eve had been special. Proof was the celebratory tablecloth she treasured. Or was it her birthday? Every year since their marriage Charlie replaced the Christmas decorations with a birthday theme. Janice was heavy into her pity party.

The phone rang. “Janice. Clyde is bad, real bad.”
Mazie did not need to be alone. I’ll be right over.”

JANICE FEELS HER AGE

Ask anyone who knew Janice. All will say she is strong. She was. She had met with resolve the death of her beloved brother to COPD, her husband to leukemia, her daughter to an automobile accident. Friends were going at increasingly closer intervals “Strong” was fatiguing.

Lying on the bed in Mazie’s spare room Janice stared at the ceiling. Water spots from the leaky roof last year formed a smiley face. “Glad you’re happy”, she said aloud. “Nobody else is. Mazie sure isn’t. And where are the kids?”

Mazie’s son in Arizona, her daughter in Illinois knew their father was terminal. Mazie explained they had busy lives with jobs and kids of their own. Getting away was not easy. It had been the same when Jared died.

Janice remembered when her father died. She and Charlie were six hundred miles away. Charlie had just started a new job; the children had just started the school year. Janice flew home for the funeral and returned home the next day.

It had not always been so. When her grandfather died the whole family was there, acting like families no longer acted. Now children, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews were scattered. They were busy with their lives. The extended family was dead.

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