After all my loss in the last eight months, I began wishing 2017 away. I think I lost count after the 4,618th time I said: “2017 can’t end soon enough.” I may have even suggested 2017 should “Suck it” a time or two. No one seemed to argue my sentiment.
It was truly the year that wouldn’t end.
Each day seemed to bring its own new heartache: the loss of my precious child and three other special friends, the loss of my job, the leaving of my fiancé, and the loss of the step-daughter I almost had. And then there were the firsts: the first of my son’s birthdays where he didn’t become another year older, the first anniversary of the day my ex and I met, the first of my birthdays without a card signed by my eldest baby, the first half-year mark since his death, the first Thanksgiving without him, what should have been the first anniversary of my engagement, and the first of so many Christmas traditions that my baby was missing from.
And as soon as 2017 left, as soon as that ball dropped in Times Square ringing in 2018, I wanted my 2017 back.
While my last year will be forever defined by the aforementioned tragedies and struggles, it never occurred to me everything else that 2017 was…
2017 was the year my baby died. 
It was also the last year he was alive.
2017 was the year I became an Angel Mom, a club no person wants membership to. It was also a year I became an unwitting member of a community of amazing, compassionate strangers who set out to comfort each other as we forge along this unknown path.
2017 was the year of unfathomable heartache. It was also a year of seeing God’s provision and blessings in the midst of my darkest hours.
2017 was the year my fiancé left me. It was also the year that I was finally chosen to be a fiancé to a man I loved, even if the months were fleeting.
2017 was the year of great personal loss. It was also the year that friends, family and acquaintances came forward and showed extraordinary love and kindness.
2017 was a year of deep financial loss. It was also the year I was humbled when so many gave generously to see me through the months after Tanner’s death.
2017 was a year of heart-wrenching days without my angel. It was also the year I realized how strong I could be when I had no choice.
2017 was the first experience with any form of mental health issues as I battled PTSD, debilitating depression and anxiety. It was also the year I became aware of the amount of pain all around us and became truly empathetic to those with brain injuries and mental illness.
2017 was the year I lost the opportunity to spend one more minute with my precious Tanner. It was also the year I truly changed my priorities, put my phone away, and became far more present with the people I love.
2017 was the year my heart lost a massive piece when my baby took a part of it to heaven. It was also the year I realized there was still room to love more orphaned kids into our family.
2017 was a year marked by sorrow. It was also the year I realized the pursuit of joy is truly a choice.
More than anything, looking back, I’ve learned life is truly about perspective and choices. How we choose to perceive and react to what life sends our way is entirely dependent on us.
Choosing to pursue joy is a choice.
For Tanner, it came naturally. For me? Not so much, but I will strive to live (and love) more like Tanner in 2018.
As much as a part of me now wants to hold tightly onto 2017 with all my might, I have learned that some things just can’t be held onto.
Moments are fleeting.
Time is precious.
Life is to be lived fully and joyfully.
Okay, 2018… I’m all yours.
#LiveLikeTanner
