Catherine Nicolette
It is just past midnight in Ireland, and I have honoured an old Whittle tradition.
When I was still at home with my parents, Dad and I used to wait up on Old Year's Eve.
As the clock hands crept nearer to midnight, Dad would call out, 'Now Nog! Let Old Father Time out!'
I would open the back door with apprehension.
We imagined the Old Year, a bent old man with a long grey beard and a spent hourglass in his hand slowly shuffling out.
Then Dad, sitting like a king in the easy chair, used to sing out, 'Now Nog!'
And I would run to the front door, opening it wide to let the New Year in.
A delightful imaginary diapered infant, delighted at the welcome in the Whittle household, would crawl in.
Whereupon Dad would raise his glass up high, toasting the New Year.
I'd swig back Coca Cola in a wine glass, feeling delightfully sophisticated.
On a really all out New Year's, we'd also have cheese crackers.
This tradition, Dad solemnly explained, was an old Irish tradition.
You let the Old Year out; and then in comes the New Year.
And with the New Year arrives the first day of the rest of your life.
Past mistakes and difficulties flow away with Old Father Time through the back door as gently as water under a bridge.
The arrival of New year gives a whole new opportunity; moving on from the mistakes of yesterday to the glory of tomorrow.
God partners with you to continue work on the masterpiece of your unique life.
Solemn and wide-eyed at eight years old, I absorbed this ancient wisdom.
To this day I follow Dad's advice to get back into shape in January.
Every fresh year I receive renewed inspiration to lose extra weight, clean up paperwork backlog and honour outstanding debts.
I wish all a happy New Year, and begin relationships again on a new footing.
All this came from Dad's Tramore wisdom.
I have just come up the stairs after assisting Old Father Time out, and New Baby Time in.
Outside is great fun - Ireland really knows how to celebrate events!
Candle lanterns glowing mellow gold in the dark, against the velvet dark blue sky have been floating past my window at regular intervals.
Green, white and blue fireworks have been lighting up the night sky.
All in the neighbourhood are either hanging out the windows or chasing around the gardens, chanting - Ten ... nine... eight... until the HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Pep, the neighbourhood dog, an adorable character, has been trotting busily around the yards happily following all the revellers.
Christmas lights still twinkle in the windows, along banisters and lintels.
Next to my computer a hydrangea (it's pink, readers) is busy blossoming from a bulb in a glass vase (my first bulbs I have ever grown - I am so proud).
I have just raised a celebratory wine glass of mulled fruit punch to toast Dad, now in heaven - all my loved ones - and a whole new beginning.
So a happy New Year to you, one and all.
May it be the first of the best years of your life!
