Happy New Year!
In her Christmas Day speech, the Queen acknowledged that Christmas is a hard time for those that have lost loved ones during the year. She said that as much as she misses her beloved Philip, she knows that he would wish the family to enjoy Christmas and all the traditions surrounding it. I think that New Year with its revelers and fireworks and parties is also a difficult time. However, it is time to forget what is behind and to press forward towards new goals and opportunities (Philippians 3:13). A friend posted these rather beautiful lines on Facebook:
In her speech, the Queen also reminded us that at the heart of the Christmas story is a new birth. A baby represents new life. A special Hogmanay was the one shortly before my son was born. It was a time of excitement and anticipation as well as preparation for the new arrival.
Expectant parents at Hogmanay party 
January Baby
Thinking back over the various New Year’s Eves that I have celebrated, there are two things that stand out – family and reflection. If we were away on a family holiday at New Year, we would be part of a huge family gathering of aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents. There would be a barbecue, sometimes a swim and often a watermelon feast. If we were at home, we would head to church for what was called the Watch Night Service. Here we would reflect on the past year and look forward to going into the New Year guided by God. There would be a sense of peace, trusting that in His care, all would be well and that we would be given the strength to cope with whatever came our way.
Picnic by the sea 
Extended family
After my marriage to Tom, our Old Year’s Eve would often be spent with our friends from our Scottish Country dance class and our families, enjoying a “bring and share” meal as well as some dancing. The Old Year (usually Tom) would march through the hall and out of the door while the New Year got piped in. Tom’s papier-mâché scythe languished in our garage for years. Since moving to Scotland, we have sometimes spent a quiet evening with friends to see in the New Year together, but latterly we ignored the whole tradition and went to bed at our usual time.
After Tom’s death, I have become more aware that life is both precious and fragile. It is important to make the most of each day as it comes. Each day is a new start, a gift to be enjoyed rather than frittered away. Tom would want me to be happy and to enjoy what life brings, but it is a moment by moment experience and not a once in a year event. Our calendars may have changed, but life goes on, day by day. I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. My journey into the 2022 will be taken one step at a time.
P.S. If you didn’t hear the Queen’s speech, you can listen to it here:
Dear Marlene
May I show your readers another take on widowhood – published in The Times a few days ago and one I totatlly agree with?
Sir, The Queen’s tribute to her late husband and her expression of grief over his death were deeply moving and her mild protest at singing carols to unknown tunes will have struck a chord with many. However, one statement in her Christmas address both puzzled and saddened me. She said that ‘life consists of final partings as well as first meetings’. At the heart of the Christian faith is the hope, described as ‘sure and certain’ in services of committal and burial, in resurrection to eternal life and the doctrine of the communion of saints with its promise of a continuing relationship between the living and the dead. Theologians and church leaders have been somewhat coy about expressing these doctrines over the last hundred years or so. I trust that those who offer spiritual counselling to Her Majesty, whose own faith is so manifest, will reassure her that partings are not final.
(Revd Professor) Ian Bradley,
Emeritus Professor of Cultural and Spiritual History, University of St Andrews
4 Donaldson Gardens,
St Andrews,
Fife,
KY16 9DN
Love your New Year message. On this third day of January, I am going to meet up with a friend to see how far I can walk along the beach here at Kleinemonde