So Long Old Friend

I started writing this post two months ago ... seriously ... two months ago. While I haven't actually written on the post every day for the past two months, I have most definitely thought about the subject matter every single day for the past two months. I've thought about it way, way, way more than a few times a day, too ... the truth is I haven't been able to get it out of my mind no matter how hard I try. I struggled with writing this post because ... well ... because of a bunch of reasons that really don't matter or make sense to anyone but me. Much to the surprise of many, I really don't just sit down and spew words when I write ... okay, maybe once in a while when I'm really, really mad ... you guys really have no idea how long some posts simmer in my brain before I ever write one word or how much I wrestle with what to write and what not to write. I tell you that because I hope ... hope ... hope ... talk about a word that carries with it more meaning than we as humans will ever begin to be able to understand. I hope it will help you to understand ... or to be understanding ... or maybe even a little bit of both.

I've never been good with goodbyes ... in fact, I really don't like them at all. Goodbyes always feel too final, too permanent, too sad, too painful, too ... well ... in my opinion, goodbyes just plain old suck all the way around. I understand all too well that even goodbyes that I think are only temporary can become final, permanent, sad and achingly painful in the blink of an eye. I think that's why I never end an email, text, phone conversation or visit with my children or granddaughters without saying, "I love you" ... it's because I've had far too many goodbyes over the years that I'd give anything now to have the chance to say those words just one more time.

The evening I first sat down to attempt to write this post was at the end of a really long day for me ... one of those days I knew was going to be a tough one and me being me, one of those days when I kept telling myself I was going to be tougher than my tough day. If you've been reading along with me for a while, you probably remember me writing about a certain wooden post that stood guard next to my desk at work ... my beloved quote post. I read the quotes on that post every single day ... every single day. I loved that my co-workers would often stop by and read the quotes, especially when they were having a tough day of their own. I loved that other people were inspired by the post and asked me for a post-it note and a pen so they could put a quote on the post as well. I loved that kids who came to visit their parents at work put quotes on the post ... that the FedEx guy thought the post was so cool, he put several quotes on the post ... that clients sent me emails with quotes and asked me to transfer them to the post for them. I loved that when I told my homeless friends who live under the bridge about my quote post, they quoted some of the great authors of all time and requested that when I went back to the office, I would put the words on a piece of paper and pin in to the post. I loved that photographers and filmmakers and news crews always asked if they could get a picture of my quote post and my framed Ears Wide Open? note cards that hung against the brick wall.

I loved a lot of things about my quote post, but perhaps what I loved most of all was what it did for me and what I hoped it did for others as well ... there's that word again ... hope. I had no idea when I tacked the first post-it note ... the first quote I pinned to the post ... I had no idea how much hope that post would bring to me, how much love that post would represent, how much that post would help me find my way. I read the quotes on that post every day ... every single day until the day I first sat down to attempt to write tonight's post. That day ... that tough day when I first tried to write tonight's post was the day I spent more than an hour removing all the quotes from my old friend ... that was the day my beloved quote post held its final quote. You see, the company where I work has grown a lot over the last couple of years, and with growth must come change, and this particular change, in my case anyway, meant I had to move to a different desk ... it meant I had to say so long to my old friend the quote post ... it meant saying goodbye to my Ears Wide Open? piece ... it meant saying goodbye to my spot. You can call me crazy or tell me I'm being a baby or think I'm ridiculous ... you can say and think whatever you want, but I miss my spot and my quote post so much that there are days when it feels like my heart is going to crumble into a million pieces. And before you ask, no, there isn't a post at my new desk, and even if there were, I'm pretty sure the magic of my beloved quote post is gone forever. 

It seems fitting to close with the first quote I placed on my quote post ... a quote that spoke to the very core of my soul the day I pushed the pin into the wood ... it seems fitting to end with the beginning ... so long old friend ... so long.

"It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are." --- e.e. cummings