Ringing in the New Year

This year, as always, I spent New Year's Eve with Sarah and Zach.

It started the year after college, when it was just me and Sarah and her dog, Lily, and wine (some of which ended up on her wall)

The next year, Zach lived in Colorado and Kevin and I were back together, so it was the four of us, barhopping on Pearl Street and then retreating to my apartment for margaritas and monopoly (or maybe that came first?)

That spring I moved to DC, and by some miracle of the universe, Sarah moved to Pittsburgh in the fall, so we were able to spend the holiday together again without traveling too far.

And so a tradition was born. Zach and Sarah hosted and Kevin and I arranged our travel schedule so that we'd always be there to celebrate with them. We drink champagne and play beer pong and rage cage, and in the morning we have mimosas and play board games for as long as we can stand it.

This year things changed, ever so slightly. I still celebrated with Zach and Sarah. I brought Kina down and spent the night and in the morning we played a couple of board games. But Kevin was in Hawaii, working.

In some ways this was harder than spending Thanksgiving and Christmas without Kevin. Thanksgiving and Christmas have always been about family, my blood relations. I spent Thanksgiving with my dad and aunt and the following days were spent visiting my mom and her sisters. Christmas was a quiet affair, but Connor came over for a few days and we drank wine and watched old TV shows. The traditions around these holidays have been in flux since my parents separated when I was twelve, but they've always centered on family. In the ways that mattered, this year wasn't any different.

New Year's Day has come to be about my found family. It's the holiday I spend with Kevin and Zach and Sarah. One of many at this point. But this is the first post-college tradition that we established, one of the things that continued to bind us together after graduation.

It was fun this year, don't get me wrong. The group of people who attend this party is ever shifting, ever growing, and it was nice to see faces both familiar and new. We played games and I had a wonderfully nerdy discussion about Star Trek with some of those new friends. There was a fancy cocktail and plenty of champagne and a dog to cuddle with at the end of the night.

But there was also a subtle loneliness, a little something missing. New Year's Eve isn't one of the holidays that can shift and slide to fit around schedules. We can make a Thanksgiving feast two weeks early. We can gather and open presents before or after the actual holiday. But the new year can only be rung in once each year. And even though I was surrounded by friends, by the bulk of my found family, the most important member of that family was missing.

2016 promises to be a good year. We're turning 30. Most of us are turning 30 on a Saturday, which will make it easy to celebrate with abandon. We're trying for a kid, which will hopefully give us more reasons to celebrate. We already have trips planned for Vermont in February and NYC in April with more of our found family, and we're hosting them in June. The calendar is filling up faster than I remember from past years. Even January, usually a month of retreat and hibernation, has already contained multiple parties.

There are times in your life when you feel like you're suddenly accelerating towards adult hood, approaching important milestones with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Things you want with all your heart that manage to scare you silly at the same time. Graduating high school. Moving into a dorm. Graduating college. Starting your first job. Moving in to your first apartment. Moving in to your first apartment together. Getting a dog.

This is where I am right now. Coming up on the next big milestones and hitting the gas. Time is doing that funny thing where it speeds up sometimes and then slows to a crawl at other times. I'm looking forward to the changes that are coming this year, but part of me is scared, too. The homebody part of my that doesn't want anything to change, ever, must be soothed and coaxed and convinced that change is for the best. The anxious part of me that wants the change now, damnit, just get it over with, must also be soothed and calmed and reminded that time keeps moving forward and all we can do is plan.

I think the manner of ringing in the new year was an appropriate portent for how this year will go. We put rage cage aside, just as we're leaving our twenties behind. And if I occasionally feel lonely in the coming year, as I expect to, it will only be temporary. Traditions come and go and change with the years. Family is forever, and 2016 will hopefully see its expansion.