He had all but convinced himself to stay home on New Year's Eve. He was getting too old to handle the noise and the crowds of revelers; he didn't even care for thunder, and at one time, he loved it. When Mrs. was with us, they'd dress up and go to the VFW who put on one hell of a party. They danced to a live band and rekindled old friendships, some of whom were men wanting to cut in, and no wonder she was a real beauty. His neighbor of fifty-some years told him he should go and could share their table, but he declined with thanks, saying he would be staying at home, and if he could stay awake long enough to watch the ball fall, well, that's what he'd do.
He had stopped at the corner store and bought a bottle of not-so-known champagne and some flowers, which probably wouldn't last one day. which he put on the table next to two glasses he was certain she would be a little upset about, as they were their wedding glasses, she had kept all those years.
As the time wore down and midnight fast approached, he opened the champagne and poured two glasses, hoping maybe she was watching over him. He closed his eyes and heard her laughter and saw her smile as they glided across the dance floor, never wanting the night to end.
He must have dozed off and awoke to fireworks outside his door, horns beeping, and people shouting a new year has arrived. He softly toasted her and gently clinked their glasses as he professed his love for her every day of the new year.
Mike 2006-almost
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