New Year’s Eve, New Year’s Day. Best holiday of the year coming up. A chance to thoughtfully ponder one passage of time and eagerly anticipate the next with all of the possibilities therein. A time to recognize one’s fears of bad actors all across the planet and repent of personal failures, both big and small; a time to fashion a future to the best of one’s ability that looks with hope and determination and even joy at a year ahead.

I acknowledge that a substantial portion of my personal pleasure is that New Year’s Eve and Day are when I make endless lists (a top-five favorite activity for me) and open brand-new journals/diaries/calendar books and enter first words with new pens, sometimes on an also brand-new or newly-placed desk or table. A far better time than can be had with firecrackers, balloons, turkey, or gift-giving (unless including journals or pens). Most people do not agree.

November and December 2025 have been eventful with family, friends, small travel, and even a few home improvements.

I even have plans for next year to share so this “wrap” may take a few episodes to conclude. It is now December 24^rd.

First up…the biggest event of the year. A new kid in the family. “Kid” is my loving but ever so slightly annoyed label for Teresa and Jon’s soon (February) to appear baby. Since no one is allowed to know the gender or potential girl/boy name for the new human and since ‘baby’ doesn’t come with much personality attached, I’m choosing Kid…Kid S. Has a nice ring. And leaves all sorts of imagery open: 8-yr-old genius graduates college; 11-yr-old successor to Greta Thunberg saves the world; 14-yr-old reform school inhabitant, but only because the kid stole Bezos’ biggest yacht and donated it to Doctors Without Borders; 16-yr-old cyclist makes it all the way around the globe—grandpa is so proud; Great grandma’s favorite gg-kid, age 18, owns a flat in Paris where ggma’s ghost happily haunts forever and ever. Is this a great kid or what!

Here’s an interesting thing. When this big event was announced, I was happy for the excited parents since this was exactly how the plan was supposed to work, but it didn’t feel very personal to me. I know, first great-grandchild and all that, but babies are a little scary to me, a lot scary actually, and I didn’t envision getting to know her/him very well since our lives will overlap somewhat briefly. Which is sad for many reasons, one of which is we might have become great travel buddies.

Also, it was hard to grasp that my slim and graceful young granddaughter was planning to grow another human being in her body.

On a lovely Thanksgiving visit, it all became real. Teresa is indeed fitting that kid in her belly. Amazing. She is rounder, and even seems taller, although I know that’s not true. Although Jon hasn’t changed size, they both seem somehow magically prepared for their biggest roles in life—parenthood.

OR NOT?

The big revelation to me is about how this baby/kid/person/human/individual suddenly became real to me. It’s quite astounding how an unidentified small human has become real and special and how I am anxious to know her/him.

There is a downside though—I’m worried at a whole new level about the survival of our fine and fragile planet on this new kid’s behalf. It was feeling like the adults I know, including my children and grandchildren, were in this messy dangerous world with me and we’d either survive together, resembling who we are, or in the form of one exotic monster or the other, or not at all. We adults talk about the demise of our world…watch shows about it, read books about it…perhaps laughing weakly or dreaming badly. But poor Kid S…didn’t have one thing to say about any of this. How to work harder and give the kid a chance should be our big question, shouldn’t it?

Well anyway, I’m excited. A great grandchild. I guess, for now, I’ll call her ‘her’ sometimes and him ‘him’ sometimes. Or Asborg or Torgus after her/his great great great grandparents? After all, this kid is 1/8 Viking.

We won’t know each other well probably. Born almost 87 years apart. But perhaps I can make sure Asborg or Torgus knows about forests and snow and lefse and trolls. I was thinking about the expression ‘ships passing in the night’, but then, given my theater management years, one ‘enters stage left’ while the other ‘exits stage right’ seemed more appropriate. That made me a bit sad though because I’m hoping we’ll have at least a few scenes together!

Leaving you with possibly the best description ever of a lived life. So here we are Kid S. and me, entering and leaving. (Be nice to have the girl’s version, yes?)

All the world’s a stage

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts,

His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,

Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms;

And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel

And shining morning face, creeping like snail

Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,

Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad

Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,

Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,

Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,

Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,

In fair round belly with good capon lin’d,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,

Full of wise saws and modern instances;

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon,

With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;

His youthful hose, well sav’d, a world too wide

For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion;

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

“All the World’s a Stage” By William Shakespeare

Merriest and Happiest of all holidays now and in the future. (Except Presidents’ Day…I’ve cancelled that)