Barbara Bush is one of my heroes. She is still that to many people in the world, and for me to attempt to tell you all the reasons I admire her would take too much time and too much typing. I can, however, easily narrow it all down to my favorite quote from her; it was actually three proclamations on camera and to the press at the start of her beloved husband George’s bid for the presidency in the late 1980s.

She announced that no matter what, she would never wear fashionable clothing, never dye her hair and never lose weight, so everyone should just stop pushing her to do these things. Yes! These three pronouncements have become my mantra. If Barbara Bush could say those things to the world and expect her wishes to be respected, why can’t I?

Quite naturally that brings us around to New Year’s resolutions for 2019. I’m pleased and proud to say I’ve just about caught up with my resolutions from 2017 I never fulfilled. I’ve decided this year, I’ll approach this whole silly resolution thing from another angle; the angle of not.

On New Year’s Day at 11:15 a.m., I turned 81 years old. Now I understand I can finally do, say and think pretty much as I please for whatever time I have left, as long as I harm no one, especially myself. Like Mrs. Bush’s three things she swore she’d never do, I also am going to resolve to not fake promise myself I will do things I know I won’t. Here are a few of them.

I resolve to stop worrying about the rope of dust on the top of my indoor window or door frames . I resolve to not ever dust them because if I do that, the frames may collapse to the floor. For 2019, I will absolutely not clean the basement. After all, at 81, I can plan on our kids doing it when the time finally comes, so why should I resolve to do it now? I won’t. On the plus side, however, for 2019, I resolve to always eat sugar and gravy and butter and cookies and milk chocolate whenever the mood hits, but not all at once. Even I can show some restraint.

Another not-resolution I will not fulfill for 2019 is to make every effort to be nicer, kinder and gentler with Mongo, my long-suffering husband of 60 years. Not because I should be all those things, but because I simply can’t possibly get any nicer, kinder and gentler with that good man. Another non-resolution will be to let loose of my inner female dog more often or to maybe not ever let loose of it. I’ll have to ponder that one.

Another New Year’s non-resolution I am not going to do? I resolve to not avoid sending a few bucks to charities I deem worthy for fear they’ll keep hounding me forever. I also don’t resolve for 2019 to cut back at least a little on my casual cussing. OK, scratch that one. I resolve to not force my bored family members to watch those marathon 80-year-old black and white films on that old movie channel. I also not-resolve to be very vocal about those stupid football games to certain people who shall be nameless.

So you see gentle readers, I refuse to make hollow promises to myself because a big glittering ball falls in New York City or because it’s traditional to make crazy high-flown promises to my mirror or my laptop, all of which are pretty much completely forgotten by Jan. 3, or to announce to all our very bored friends that I’m going on safari somewhere or will clean out my garage/shed/attic/closets/ and will finally empty out that annoying, decades-old bucket list. Not.

Thus, I thank you, Barbara Bush, for inspiring me to make non-New Year’s resolutions. My hair will stay the color or non-color it is; my clothes will remain style-less but comfortable; and resolving to drop 35 pounds? Fuhgeddaboudit. Happy New Year everyone. Make resolutions, but really, don’t bother to keep them. Nobody does.

 LC Van Savage is a Coastal Journal contributor. She can be reached at [email protected]. Her latest book “Queenie” is available at local bookstores and on Amazon.