It’s Not Easy Being Alone on New Year’s Eve

But we can make our own traditions

The soundtrack for today’s post is this old gem by Ella Fitzgerald: “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?” Ella Fitzgerald Sings "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?"

As Ella asks in the old song, what are we doing for New Year’s Eve? It’s here, and I don’t have much of a plan. Do you?

When I was a kid, Mom would bring out snacks and sparkling cider and we’d watch the festivities on TV. We’d share big hugs and kisses at midnight.

In the latter part of my marriage, it was like that, too. Except we drank champagne.

For a few years, my husband and I attended a party at our friend Robert’s house. It was huge, with a big crowd and endless food and drinks. The festivities kicked into high gear at midnight when we got out the guitars and started jamming. I’m sure we were not in good condition to drive home in the wee hours, but we did it anyway.

Other years, we partied with the community choir I used to sing with. It wasn’t as wild at Robert’s parties, but we sang, ate, and drank and maybe previewed some of the songs for the upcoming season.

When 1999 turned to 2000, Fred and I attended the formal party at Newport’s Center for Performing Arts. We dressed up, noshed and danced to big band music in the large theater room and rock in the studio theater. Come midnight, we gathered on the stage, champagne in hand, and cheered as the new century began. Then we danced to “Olde Lang Syne.” I love that memory.

I haven’t been to a New Year’s Eve Party in years.

Now, I’m more inclined to be businesslike and thoughtful. I add up the numbers on my financial spreadsheets, make new sheets for the new year, and shred documents I no longer need. I change calendars and transfer dates for the new year. I make to-do lists for work projects and home repairs.

I think about what happened over the past year, what I have accomplished, and what I want to work on. I remember the people who died in the last year and the ones who probably won’t make it through the new year. I write, organize, eat something delicious, and go to bed early.

There are places to go and things to do on New Year’s Eve, but honestly this is where my do-it-alone courage fails me. This is where a partner or a local best friend would be handy. If I go alone, I know I’m going to be so uncomfortable that I’d rather stay home. I can do it, yes, but is it worth the stress?

What will happen in 2025? We don’t know. We’ll have a new president. I expect to have a new dog. I have author events scheduled through spring. At church, the Christmas season will give way to Ordinary Time and then to Lent and Easter and we’ll go around the liturgical calendar again. Winter will lead to spring, the rain will ease, and we’ll have another beautiful summer on the Oregon Coast.

Will I find romance? Ha!

Will I have a stroke, be diagnosed with cancer or break a hip? God, I hope not.

Will this be the year the big earthquake and tsunami wipe out the West Coast? All we can do is be prepared.

Will I lose loved ones? Please God, no.

Will we see peace in Ukraine and the Middle East? Please, please, please.

Will I publish another book? Maybe. With everything I published in 2024, it’s okay if that doesn’t happen, but I am working on several projects.

I feel that I’m playing and singing music better than I ever have. It’s like a door opened and I entered the magic kingdom of music. If that stops anytime soon, I will not be okay with it.

I don’t make resolutions these days. In past years, I gorged on candy or chips and dip until 11:49 because my new diet would start at midnight. You can guess how long that resolution lasted, but I do have hopes: that I will lose weight, sort my possessions down to what I truly need or want, visit the cousins I rarely see, and finally replace my grungy carpet.

This week, we’re dealing with both the transition from one year to the next and the holiday with its memories and expectations. I don’t feel bad about being alone, but I feel as if I ought to be doing something special on New Year’s Eve. Know what I mean?

Some ideas:

• Gather solo friends for a last-minute potluck

• Make yourself a special meal

• Reflect, journal, plan

• Take a hike—there are several New Year’s hikes where I live. See what’s available in your town.

• Watch a movie or two or three

• Zoom or Facetime with distant friends

• Rearrange your furniture

• Read a good book

• Go to the gym—it won’t be crowded

• Bake, do crafts, start a project

• Give yourself a spa day

• Make a vision board

• RELAX—you don’t have to do anything

None of these options gives us that kiss at midnight from Prince or Princess Charming or that big group cheer when the ball drops in Times Square. It’s okay to grieve that loss, but then you have to let it go and celebrate what you have now. For example, on Sunday, I sang at the Café Chill open mic, then walked on the beach, and it felt so good. I knew I was blessed.

Today, I’m not feeling it, but I’m grateful for those moments of grace. Sometimes we have to create them for ourselves.

Arlin Cuncic, MA, writes on her social anxiety blog, “Can you actually have a great New Year’s Eve solo? Absolutely. Spending the night alone doesn’t mean you have to miss out on fun, excitement, or even the chance to make it special. It’s all about making choices that align with what makes you feel happy, comfortable and celebrated.”

So, dear friends, what are you doing on New Year’s Eve?

Further Reading

https://www.the-independent.com/life-style/solo-christmas-new-years-eve-covid-b1777678.html

www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/schlepping-through-heartbreak/201612/new-years-eve-survival-guide-for-the-heartbroken

Photo by Cody Chan on Unsplash

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How did I end up alone? My first marriage ended in divorce. My second husband died of Alzheimer’s after we had moved to the Oregon coast, far from family. I never had any kids, only dogs. Now I live by myself in a big house in the woods. You can read our story in my memoir, No Way Out of This: Loving a Partner with Alzheimer’s, available now at your favorite bookseller. Visit https://www.suelick.com for information on all of my books.