I guess every year is a year of loss and of life when you think about it, but 2019 hit especially hard.
January was all about our James.
I mean, the whole year was about our James, but January especially.
And January was about our Mumsie too, by way of February.
March brought us, inexplicably, the first signs that the world keeps on spinning . . .
. . . and April brought us the in-between -- not winter, not summer . . . Oh wait. Right. Spring.
May brought us children doing our Fielding . . .
. . . (and children appreciating said Fielding).
. . . and June brought us our sometimes peeps. Who we wish were moretimes peeps.
On July, after we celebrated our beloved aunties and uncles, we reveled in the summer . . .
. . . and in August we got the laborious children back together with less rain gear on.
September is always about the Fruits of the Garden . . . and of course September is also all about Me.
October . . . Fall! Anniversary! Walden! The Walk!
November was the beginning of the dark part of the year, but also the beginning of the Hollyus Jollyus season . . .
. . . and December, of course, was the year anniversary of the loss of our James. A year.
We love you, kid. And every day we miss you like crazy.
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