Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end.
But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.
-Winston Churchill
My but we've had some times, haven't we?
I look back over the past six years of this blog and let the fullness of it sit with me: the joy, the heartbreak, the discovery, the adventure, the longing, the learning, the trying, the becoming. To be honest, some of it seems so far removed now. And some of it feels like yesterday.
So much has changed in my life since beginning this blog. I was, in the early days, a reporter-come-home. Life intervened with my career and I found myself out of the limelight and out of the big city, tucked away in a forgotten town. I was a girl with big hopes and big plans and, soon, a big, monster of a house to renovate. Ah, Freeman House. Many of you came along as I worked to save and preserve her. It was a huge and delightful undertaking. And still many more watched as, in the crash of 2008, I struggled to keep her. I know many of you felt my loss as I packed and drove away.
(To be sure, she's okay now. Freeman House is. I should say more than okay. The owner I purchased her from- the same owner who let the house fall into shocking disrepair in the 15 years prior to my arriving- got her back. Upon inheriting an estate, the old/new owner ripped her open, gutted the place, and rebirthed it in her own image. I drove past once and ended up getting out of the car 10 minutes later and crying so hard I vommited. The historical details? Gone. The heavy, wavy windows I loved so much? Gone. The soul that made Freeman House... Freeman House? Erased. But she was saved. Folks gush that she is beautiful again. And if I played even the smallest role in protecting her, I'm satisfied.)
But Freeman House wasn't an ending, it was the end of a beginning. You all supported and cheerleaded from the webstands as we moved on, baking... reading... knitting... gardening... talking... believing. I'll forever be grateful to you for the thoughtfulness and happiness you brought into my life. If I played even the smallest role in doing the same for you, I'm satisfied.
It's time for me to move on from this blog. I'm sure you've seen it in my half-heartedness and heard it in my writing. My heart simply isn't here anymore. I hardly recognize the 24 year old girl who began writing this blog. I venture that she would hardly recognize me. But both of us have, and will always, recognize and remember you... your presence here... your place in our blog heart.
Thank you. Thank you for sitting in on the beginnings of my messy, thrilling life. I wish you all the sweet and solace in the world, and of course, my forever
love,
Brin
P.S. You can reach me by emailing me at letters(at)brinwisdom(dot)com. And I hope you will. Let's stay in touch...