As the clock struck twelve on January 1st, dawning the start of a New Year, I had memories of times past. When my life was simple and fun. Of the ways we, as kids in the eighties would bring in the New Year.
Popping Firecrackers!
We didn’t light fireworks, or attend extravagant fireworks shows or displays. We created our own. Largely unsupervised, we ran throughout the neighborhood at night firing off Black Cat poppers, launching bottle rockets from our hands, and holding roman candles and watching them light up the night sky. I think this and July 4th would be the only time when the “be home before the street lights come on” rule would be relaxed.
This would be the preliminary to the actual fun though. Once we’d get a large enough group, we’d choose up sides and have a Firecracker war! That’s right! We birthed the phrase “its on and popping”. Being able to take a bottle rocket, hold it between your thumb and index finger while lighting it with a fireworks lighter, then being able to release and throw it in the direction of your intended target just at the right time for it to “catch” and chase your opponent down the street became a thing of art and expertise. Also, aiming your roman candle at your opponent, knowing you had approximately eight shots to hit as many targets as you could became the ultimate goal.
New Year’s Day!
New Year’s Day usually started off early for me. Not that I wanted it to. It was usually forced. Historically speaking there are New Year’s traditions that most people know of and participate in. Eating black eyed peas, Cornbread and some type of greens, whether cabbage, mustard or collard. The black eyed peas represents coins, change, and the greens represents folding money or dollars. However, my family added a little extra superstition to the tradition.
My maternal grandmother, who we affectionately called “Big Mama” was truly the matriarch of my extended family. She was also very superstitious. She would do things like take her hair that might have been caught up in her comb after she had combed or fixed it and burn it. Why, because she feared someone may get ahold of it and use it to cast a spell on her. Also, if you walk in a house through one door (say the front door), you had to sit down before walking out of the house through another door. If you don’t sit down, you might get “crossed up”. So, even though she was Christian (Baptist), she was deeply superstitious. This could have been attributed to some Louisiana heritage or Indigenous ancestry.
And so, for New Year’s Day our extended family traditions and superstitions intertwined. For a span of several years that lasted until my college days, I was directly affected by said New Year’s Day rituals. For the belief was that the youngest male relative in the family had to go around to each family member’s home and bless their house – before twelve noon. That “youngest male relative” part fell on me. My mom would wake me up by force to do this. So, after a long night of popping firecrackers and no telling what other hijinks and shenanigans, not going to bed until two, maybe three in the morning, I would be forced to wake up and partake of this unfounded and unsubstantiated ritual. Because the belief was that if your house did not get blessed, you would have bad luck the whole year. It would be on these mornings that I would be so tempted to be disrespectful to my mom and say No! I wanted so bad to just fire back at my mom, “MOM! You know this is just a bunch of superstition! It’s not true! We’re Christian for goodness sake! Why am I doing this?? Can’t they get someone else?” There were times I did protest, maybe not so vehemently, but somewhat nevertheless. She would just say, “I know baby, but just do it anyway. They’re asking for you.”
And with that, I would drag myself out of bed. Looking like a cast member from “Night of the Living Dead.” The original movie, not the remake – and trudge across the street to my grandmother’s house. Now as best as I can remember, the protocol stipulated that you had to visit EACH AND EVERY room of the house and walk around to EVERY PART of the room to truly bless it.
Sometimes and in some houses and rooms, I would really play the part. I would walk in and extend my arms as if to pray and “lay hands on” the area and truly extend a “blessing”, as if I were a priest or prophet. Mostly though, I would just stumble through giving a fake smile trying to cover up my fireworks hangover.
My grandmother and aunties would be so elated when I came in. I was actually treated like royalty in that moment. It was as if I was the one to save their house and their soul from evil. They would exclaim “Ooh, yes baby! Come on in here! Yes! Please! Go all over! Go on up yonder in the front room. Make sure you go all over. Thank you Jesus! Just bless this house.”
Inwardly, I always felt a little weird because I honestly didn’t believe any of this stuff. In my mind I’m thinking, “this is ridiculous!” But for my aunties and grandmother, this was life! This was going to keep their home and their lives free from evil throughout the year.
One last thing I had to do to complete the ritual was before I left. I had to take some fruit from the fruit bowl. I HAD TO! If I didn’t, their house wouldn’t be blessed. Sometimes, my aunties would have a bag already prepared for me. Complete with an apple, orange, some candy and maybe some nuts like pecans or walnuts. Kind of like Halloween and trick or treat without the Jack-O-Lantern.
By the time I had made all my rounds, my anger would have subsided. I was fully awake. No more zombie walking. And it was actually good to go around and see my aunties and cousins. Most of them were older than me and by the time I got to their house, they would be just waking up and probably eating cereal. It really wasn’t that bad because all but one of my aunties lived within a short walking distance from us. Just around the block, in the same neighborhood.
While I was busy blessing houses and hurriedly trying to get them all done before noon, my mother was at home frantically cooking black eyed peas, cabbage and cornbread. Oh yeah, according to the rituals and superstions of our family, this had to be eaten before noon also. Even though I wasn’t superstitious, I made sure I ate mine before noon. You know, just in case . . .
Sweet and Precious Memories
Sometimes I have dreams about my mom and my grandmother. I guess in my heart, I long to go back to those simpler times. On my mom’s side of my family, my Mom, Big Mama, my uncles and all but two of my aunties have passed on. So I haven’t had to worry about waking up early and going to bless their houses. This past New Year’s Day, I got up early, put on my scrubs and went to work like any other day. Life is much different now. So much hustle and bustle. If we’re not careful, the New Year becomes old before we really know what happened.
For me though, when I grow overly nostalgic, I think just what all I would give to hear, on New Year’s morning, my mom’s voice, waking me up to go bless, and be blessed by my family.
Happy New Year’s Everyone!