My Beloved Daughter,
As I write this, tomorrow is New Year’s Eve. It’s hard to believe that another year is pretty much over. 2016 was a trip, to be sure. We lost many famous people. But we dodged a major bullet by electing Donald Trump as president over Hillary Clinton. Trump’s not perfect, by any means. But anything is better than what we’ve had over the past eight years. Many people believe that Obama was simply an imbecile who didn’t have the common sense to be the leader of the Free World. I, on the other hand, have a different point of view. I think he went into this with the intention of destroying democracy. That’s why he stabbed our only ally in the Middle East—and the only democracy there—in the back recently.
But I digress.
Needless to say, 2017 is coming. It makes me miss your Grandma Pat all the more. You see, she had some pretty weird superstitions about New Years.
First of all, we weren’t allowed to do laundry on New Year’s Day. The belief that, if you did laundry on New Year’s Day, a family member would die. When someone would die, I could remember racking my brain to remember if we did laundry on New Year’s’ that year. Even last year, when your Grandma Pat died, I remember wondering about it. Logically, there’s no truth to it. Only God controls life and death.
Second, we had to eat black-eyed peas and hog jowl. The latter part sounds grosser than it is. It’s just really ham. I actually kind of liked this superstition. I still love beans and ham.
Third, we were taught that, whatever you do on New Year’s Day was something that you would do frequently throughout the year. So we always tried to do something fun on that day.
I don’t believe any of these things, to be true. But they always remind me of your Grandma. It’s funny how even the silliest little things seem so special now.