Often do we wish the current year away, especially when it’s steadily approaching its close. We plan parties not to welcome the new year, but to bid a not-so-fond farewell to the year that’s soon to end. “Good riddance,” we say, popping the cork of another champagne bottle. We toast the year’s inevitable demise, counting down the seconds until it’s finally over.

But as midnight approached, surrounded by people who simply couldn’t wait for the year to finally end… I was almost sad. 2018 was very good to me.

It had a rocky start. January began in the midst of perplexing personal matters and, per annual tradition, sick. The snowstorm that welcomed the year was a nasty one, especially since I was meeting a friend to take a three-hour drive together.

But.

I was in the midst of RCIA. I’d just started a new job, one that helped bring God’s word to children. Personal matters and snowstorm aside, the year was already off to a good start.

There was so much I hadn’t planned or anticipated over the year. I rekindled my love for my fraternity, attending convention in Arizona and accepting a position on the national level. I took a bold step in telling a guy I was interested in him, which threw my “I’m probably meant to be alone” stubbornness into a committed relationship. I watched John Williams conduct his own music with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, accompanied by Yo-Yo Ma on cello. I traveled to Italy, where I waved to Pope Francis during the papal audience and visited the tomb of St. Paul, my favorite convert and missionary.

And, above them all: April 8, the day I was received into the Catholic Church.

During a recent work event, we were asked to what year we would return, if given the chance. College was a popular choice, or mid-thirties (for the “older” folk), and some joked that toddlerhood was the ideal. Though I’d answered college myself, the real answer was… right now. If I could experience all that 2018 brought over again, for the first time, I would. It was filled with joy and wonder, with happiness I didn’t even know existed.

Thank you, 2018.