Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes...

How do you measure a year?  The answer to this question, according to RENT, which happens to be one of my favorite musicals (natch), is that you measure a year in seasons of love.  I am always going to remember 2012 as the year in which I lost my love, but in many ways, I can still measure this atrocious year in the various sources and types of love that surround me.

2012 kicked off with so much promise.  JP, Max, Maddy and I spent NYE with my wonderful high school friends, who are like sisters to me, and their families (including not just husbands and kids, but siblings and cousins, too).  We had just gathered together to meet the newest addition to our group, and I was thrilled to be welcoming in the new year with my girls.  We put Max to bed and played board games, while Maddy snuck her big tongue into wine glasses.  I remember feeling so lucky, blessed, and excited to see what 2012 would bring.  There I was, with my perfect little family - sweet dog, perfect baby boy, married to my best friend - surrounded by friends, cocooned in love.

When my world crashed down around my ears, there were moments (and not the short kind) when I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest.  How would I ever experience love again when I had lost my true love, my best friend?  Over the past 10 1/2 months, I have learned important lessons about love, and how much of it I have in my life, in so many different forms.

First and foremost, I have Max.  As a mother, I get to experience a love that has no parallel.  Hearing Max say "mama" or "mommy" gives my heart wings, and seeing JP in him - in his face, his personality, his expressions and movements - is a constant reminder of the love that brought him into this world.  Not only that, but Max is a constant reminder that although JP is no longer physically with us, my love for him, and his love for me and Max, is not gone.  We will always have that.

And where would I be without the love of my family?  My parents have made so many sacrifices for us, and I am ashamed of how poor a job I do at showing them how much I appreciate everything they do for me and for Max.  I am so lucky to have such a loving, understanding family.  My parents have taken such amazing care of us.  They have such a special relationship with Max, and although it has been a challenge for all of us to adjust to my attempt to balance family, school, and a social life, they have been wonderful.  And let's face it - sometimes I need someone to reign me in.  As for my brother, he has been a rock for me.  He lets me vent about the frustrations that come from living with one's parents, and does a good job playing mediator when necessary.  Not to mention being an amazing uncle to Max.

But the family love doesn't stop there, of course.  I have the world's most wonderful mother in law.  Max's Grammy is a pillar of strength and amazingness.  Thinking about the losses she has suffered makes me so angry: losing her firstborn and her baby - how is it fair that someone so kind and wonderful should have to experience those tragedies?  And yet she has not lost her faith.  And she still manages to put everyone else before her, and take care of those around her.  I'm in awe of her, and I am so glad we are close.  Max has a wonderful family on his daddy's side of the family, and one of the intentions I have set for myself is to ensure that he has strong relationships with them.  His cousins are so wonderful, and seeing them with him does my heart good.

Then there are my friends, and JP's friends.  Listing all the ways in which our friends have shown how much they love me and loved JP would turn this into a novel.  Suffice to say that the acts of love have not let up as time has passed.  I read about widows whose friends seem to forget about the loss they have suffered and my heart breaks for them.  My friends are the absolute tops.  Those who knew him miss him, and they all show me every day in big and small ways how much they love and support me.

Of course no discussion of love could be complete without mention of Maddy.  My sweet baby girl.  JP loved her as much as any man has ever loved a dog.  And she and I have been through a lot together recently.  For a while I thought that 2012 was going to take my husband and our dog.  But Maddy and I fought back.  Her therapy team has given her a new lease on life, and while things are not easy for us, she is happy and sweet and I will continue to fight for her and provide her with the best care possible for as long as we have together.

Although I'm glad I can look at the past year and measure it in love, not just loss, I am glad to close the book on 2012.  2013 will not be without its trials and sorrows, but I look forward to the joys and healing it will no doubt bring as well.

And to bring it back to another lesson learned from musical theater...

Hasa Diga Eebowai