I am one of the most superstitious people you’ll ever meet. I don’t split poles, break mirrors, walk under ladders and I always throw salt over my shoulder if I spill it; I don’t open umbrellas in the house, I don’t sweep over people’s feet, and I do my best to do the laundry and cleaning before the New Year. Every New Year’s Day, I eat a spoonful of black eyed peas, collard or turnip greens and ham for good luck. The meal is a tradition my Southern grandmother shared with our family that has stuck with me, and one that I hope my children will continue as well. My Nana explained to me that the greens represent money, the meat is prosperity, and the beans are luck. While the meaning behind the tradition varies between families, what I love about the tradition is how close I feel to my grandmother (she passed away in 2012.) This was our family’s thing, and she made sure that we all had a spoonful of the meal on New Year’s Day.
Another NYE tradition I follow is the belief that the person you spend New Year’s Eve with is the person you’ll be with all year. So far, this has been true, and I always told myself that I was NOT gonna break it. In the past, if a guy didn’t want to spend New Year’s with me, I would be crushed, and, almost as if I willed it, we wouldn’t make it through the following year. Some would call my beliefs superstition, I called them traditions.
This year, though, I sat with myself and had a talk. I felt like I was making New Year’s Eve a bigger deal than it really was, when I should be enjoying the night with my best friend and her husband at their annual New Year’s Eve party, another tradition started over a decade ago within our circle. I told myself that if I got to be with my love on New Year’s Eve? Good! If not, I would be fine. My love lost his grandmother the day before New Year’s Eve and had family matters to tend to. I told myself that the probability of us not spending time together on New Year’s Eve does not change how he feels for me in the least bit. I sat in my room for about an hour meditating on my revelation, sipped some Taylor’s Port, and went about my night, leaning on my own faith and not superstition.
Almost as if the Universe understood me and opened up some type of magical portal, my night was greater than I thought it would be. I got to see my love and get a kiss, and he made sure I got to be with my friends at the annual New Year’s Eve party later on in the evening. What made seeing him that much greater, though, was to see him with his family creating a memory. It was just him, his brothers, cousin and uncle, and they were toasting to the new year. They had just lost their mother/grandmother the day before New Year’s Eve and were devastated, but in this moment, they were at peace, as each of them fed off of the love and positive energy of one another. I looked at my love and his guys, as he affectionately calls them, and thought about the talk I had with myself in my room hours earlier. This moment, happening right in front of me, is what traditions are about: being with the people you love and care for.
Well played, Universe. Well played.
I will keep with the tradition of the New Year’s Day meal, but I won’t force the New Year’s Eve thing, and to be honest, I don’t have to. My love will be with me, and I’ll be with him. What is meant to be will be, and I believe that love will work out in your favor if you believe it in your heart, and not just because superstition tells you so.
Peace and Happy New Year,
April Bee
RIP Annie “Dee” Raleigh