Good bye 2013, you little rascal.

Edit: Farewell Ginger, centre, 2001-2013.

A good writer will do some research before attempting to prepare a Year in Review. A great writer takes careful notes as the calendar pages turn. The retrospective essay practically writes itself. At least I suppose it does.

The lazy way of doing things can be incredibly revealing, though, about what is most important in a person's life. And therefore a Year in Review written off the top of one's head can be equally worth writing - if not equally worth reading - as a beautifully-engineered piece steeped in research and forethought.

When I look back on 2013 this is what (randomly) comes to mind:

Rachel, Joshua and my Mom, Lorraine.

My family all stayed alive and together. No deaths. My parents, J's parents, our siblings, our beloved child Rachel, my brother's precious baby boy Joshua, and let's not forget our silly little dog Benji.

Benji hides beneath a hemlock.

Not one of us stayed in hospital overnight, even, unless it was for the surgery my daughter got at the end of October to help her hear better. More on that in a minute, but first I have to say how grateful I am that all of my family members and my friends are still in my world, still a phone call or email or car ride or footsteps away. Thank you.

Illness. Having said that everyone stayed alive, I can't say I had the best year physically. I was tired and I seemed to catch every passing virus and take things harder than someone my age should. On one hand, I'm bitter that much of the year was lost to this cold, that flu, that back spasm, etc. But on the other hand, it has inspired me to eat (even) better and become more committed to exercise. Not a novel idea for a new year's resolution, yet I do mean it.

A family snapshot after the spring piano recital.

Love. I felt this year that my love for my family and friends is growing at a rapid pace and I'm not afraid to show it. I love my husband more than I ever have. I treasure him. I don't know if it's because the amount of time he has been in my life is now approaching 1/2 the number of years I've been alive, or if it's because I am more aware than ever that his presence in my life each day comes with no guarantee. He looks young, and handsome, and he is in great shape physically. He is smart and quick-witted. He is polite and gentlemanly. He demonstrates his love in quiet, gentle, thoughtful ways. How lucky can I be?

Love, part 2. I am not a particularly special person, and I am decidedly imperfect at the best of times, but for some reason I am very much loved by my family and by a very wide circle of friends. And though distance and busy schedules often keep us from having tea and hugs as often as I'd like, I rely on the undying support of these beautiful people I'm lucky enough to have in my life. Among them ... and this list will never be complete ... and I know I'll be editing this blog entry to add more names to it, but off the top of my head I am thoroughly blessed to have Lorraine, Jonathan, Rachel, Joey, 2 Michelles, 2 Karens, 2 Jennifers, at least 2 Barbaras, a Linda, a Lynn, a Sally, an Eve, a Josephine, a Kathryn, a Mike, a Naghmeh, Percy, Brenda, Italo, Mary and so many others who shine their light and wisdom and laughter and love upon my world despite the fact that I haven't earned an ounce of any of it.

The future. This year seemed to be a gateway year to the future for some reason. A bridge. I could be wrong, but it's a feeling I have.

Trying out the BAHA on a headband.

Over the course of 2013, starting in about March, we made a big decision to go through with Rachel's BAHA surgery. It's a device made by the same people who make Cochlear Implants, and it stands for Bone Anchored Hearing Aid.

As Rachel will be turning 12 at the end of January, it seemed insufficient and irresponsible to allow her to continue through life with only hearing and sight on one side of her head. She can't hear on her left side, but now she can at least pick up sounds coming from that direction and hear them with her right ear. Which means she can eventually walk to school on her own. Go for pizza at lunchtime with her friends. Have a conversation without saying Pardon Me every other word. She has only been wearing the actual BAHA for a few weeks but already the difference it makes has exceeded our (rather reserved) expectations tenfold.

Hours after the implant surgery, with Dr. Cushing from SickKids. 

Rachel gets her own BAHA.

There are lots of things that I assume/fear will change in 2014 - for some reason I just don't think we can get away with the health, prosperity and relative bliss we've enjoyed thus far. With love there is always loss, and letting go, even if it's only in the good fortune of watching a child grow up and out of childhood ... which is, inherently, the loss of a child, in a way, if that makes any sense at all. This next year will be the final year of having a daughter who isn't a teenager. She is still a baby, in so many ways, but she is still the one who helps me log into this blog when I forget what to do. She is the one who explained to me why I couldn't see the stats dashboard when I log in from this gmail account I'm using. She doesn't even have a Blogger blog, but she just knows. I think the tables will continue to turn, now, until she's completely the one in charge. Wow, huh?

Hello 2014. We've been expecting you.

And there you have it. That's what a list looks like when it's written off the top of one's mind. No mention of Toronto floods, or the Great Ice Storm Blackout, no talk of Rob Ford, or Sammy Yatim. The Boston Bombers barely came to mind. No great movies or TV shows or songs. Even the shiny new car got nary a mention.

I'm not the first to say this, nor will I be the last. But it is, however, the final thing I'll write in the year that was 2013.

Love is all that matters.