for Auld Lang Syne

♦ ♦ ♦ By John Masey Wright (1777–1866, artist) John Rogers (c. 1808-c. 1888, engraver) Adam Cuerden (1979–, restorationist) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons ♦ ♦ ♦

In previous years, I posted my “for Auld Lang Syne” blogs to commemorate those who have passed away.  This year, however, I decided to make it a celebration of the living —  those dear family, friends and acquaintances who have shared part of our history and who have created memories with us.

These are the people who have laughed and cried with us, played and fought, shared food, drink and stories…  all in good times, and in bad.  Some have come into our lives for only a chapter or two, but – wow – we had a blast!  Others have stayed the course.  And, a select few have been there from the beginning and will likely remain until the very end. 

We must bow our heads in fervent, heartfelt appreciation for each and every one of them.

This beloved Scottish poem,  written by Robert Burns in 1788 and now a traditional folk song that many of us play (and sing along to) when ushering in a New Year at the stroke of midnight, is really about these “auld acquaintances” whom we shall never forget.  We celebrate them (and us)… for old time’s sake.  Robert Burns (imagine the delightful Scottish burr) articulates the sentiment far better than I:

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?


For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp!
and surely I’ll be mine! And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.


We twa hae run about the braes,
and pu’d the gowans fine;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,
sin auld lang syne.


We twa hae paidl’d i’ the burn,
frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
sin auld lang syne.


And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere!
and gie’s a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll tak a right gude-willy waught,
for auld lang syne.