I?think I’ve been fixating on my final column more than is healthy. I’ve been debating what to write:?whether to leave them with tears in their eyes from a poignant moment shared, or tears in their eyes from a good laugh.
I liken it to, perhaps, writing your own obituary. After all, a final column is a saying goodbye of sorts. A place where you mention all those who supported you and recall the good times, and maybe even, the not-so-good times.
Fortunately, I’ve had more good times than bad, and many helped me through the rough patches and freely gave of themselves when I?needed them most.
Thank you to those who hired a young, newly divorced single mother to write for the newspaper 12 years ago. You had faith in me and offered me a job that provided income for my little family and allowed a chance to connect with the community in a truly unique way.
Thank you to my co-workers (you know who you are!) for your friendship and the expertise you have shared over the years. Thanks for making the job fun on the best days and bearable on the worst. And thanks for saving my literary bacon on more than one occasion.
Thank you to my entire family for your patience in dealing with my crazy newspaper life. Special thanks to my husband, Rich Hall, and my mother, Ethel DeJung, who (at various times over the years) watched children so I could meet deadlines or cover events–whether late at night, early in the morning, on weekends, or during holidays. I?could not have done it without you.
Two special thank you’s to my sons, Alex and Jacob. Alex, thank you for being a great sport–I know people have enjoyed watching you grow up through this column. The same goes for you, Jacob. You both are my pride and joy and I have delighted in sharing your stories with the newspaper’s readers.
Finally, thank you to the readers. Thank you for taking time to comment on an article I wrote or a photo I?took. Thank you for your praise and for your constructive criticism. I appreciate it all.
Well, I’ve got this far without causing anyone to burst into tears or laugh out loud. How about I leave you with two funny tidbits about “my boys.”
Recently, Jacob and Daddy were in the front yard when Daddy bent down, broke off a spearmint leaf, and popped it into his mouth. Jacob watched and grew alarmed. He pointed at Daddy’s mouth, saying, “Daddy, show me! Show me!” When Daddy opened his mouth, two-year old Jacob demanded, “Spit it out! Spit it out!”
Last month, Alex needed to have THREE booster shots before going to Boy Scout Camp. He was understandably anxious since he is healthy and hasn’t needed a shot in years. By the time we visited the doctor’s office, he had worked himself into a sweat. After the first injection, he exclaimed, “That’s it? That’s all it was?”
And that’s all there is–Thank you for reading!