How did I love thee, 2019?  Let me count the ways.

I loved the month of January, and my brief visit to Savannah, Georgia, in all its mysteries.

I loved the month of February, when I climbed a mountain so steep I was sure I would fall backwards to my demise.

I loved the month of March, which had the most to give:  the Museum of Illusions where I did not believe my eyes and laughed at tricks. A cousin I’d never met and finally did after twenty-one years. When the generosity of a sibling overwhelmed me and led to serendipitous moments.  And my recovery from every sadness, abandonment, and trial that seemed insurmountable.

I loved April, when I visited Westeros, saw Japanese Breakfast, ate pizza, and went to a museum.

I loved May, when I worked a lot and wrote more.

I loved June, when I danced again and saw St. Louis.  July, when I came home again.  And August, when I faced fears and God came closer. September, when I moved toward my self, and October. October. October. Then November, when I saw a mockingbird, sang, and wore a dress for a change.

I loved December, when I saw people I love most but faced new fears. December, the mother of all months to me, the first path and the home stretch.  I will always love December.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning sonnet (Sonnet 43):

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints.

I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.