Farewell, 2012

Well,
The year is coming to an end.
In two hours and 30 minutes, to be exact.

I have to say, I cannot remember being more excited to see a year end.
When I think of this year, I think of pain and fear and waiting.
Of holding my breath.
I think of worrying it would be my last.
Of the talks I had with Justin about what to do with the girls if something happened to me.
How I looked at my newborn daughter and prayed to be able to see her grow up.

But now, here I sit.
Alive.
Thankful.

Watching my kids head-bang to the celebrations in New York that are playing on TV.
Saying things like, "We don't put our broccoli in other people's faces."
All the joys of life in this crazy house.

And I realize it's all perspective.
I could focus on the fear and the illness, or I could focus on what coming out of that fear and illness taught me.
To trust.
To live in every moment.
To be thankful for what I have because I don't know how long I'll have it.

I can focus on my round-faced baby girl.
The best thing that happened in 2012.
On how, in my darkest moments, her sweet breath against my skin soothed me.
Like I was breathing in her newness and innocence.
The soft sounds of it assuring me.
The meaning her tiny fingers curled around mine held.

I can choose to think about my best friend announcing, after years of unsuccessful trying, that she was pregnant.
On the excitement that brought.
On the tears of joy we cried.

I can remember my Asante girls and how they changed my life completely and filled me with a love I almost cannot understand.
This year was so much about them.

It can be about the bad or it can be about the good.
Some of which came as a result of the bad.

All of my best growth has come painfully.

This has been a year of struggle.

This has also been a year of answered prayer.
Of relief.
Of second chance.
Of reconnection.
Of recognition.
Of creativity.
Of REAL LIFE.

So, I bid goodbye to 2012.
Goodbye and,
well,

Don't let the door hit'cha.