This is the end of a thing

I have long been fascinated, if not overcome, by the end of a thing. What is the appropriate sentiment? Do you express regret for all the things you could have done better? Do you apologize for the times you fell short? Do you bemoan what might have been or what never will be again?

I don’t see value in any of those transactions. So, I’m fascinated by the end of a thing. We are often compelled to say “goodbye.” I’m not so good with saying “goodbye.” I never really have been. I couldn’t do it when I moved away from friends. I couldn’t do it when dating relationships had run their course. I couldn’t do it at funerals when I was supposed to bid farewell to people who meant something to me. Too many thoughts. Too much emotion. How are we supposed to process the end of a thing and relegate it to something as simple as “goodbye”? That seems to miss the mark comically.

I’m at the end of a thing. I’m supposed to say something. More than a decade in Demopolis. More than a decade telling stories. More than a decade across from city councils and county commissions and boards of education. More than a decade at ball fields and tennis courts and gymnasiums. More than a decade of senior nights and graduations and last games. More than a decade. How is “goodbye” the right punctuation?

I have long been fascinated, if not overcome, by the end of a thing. Amid that fascination, I’ve learned to say “thank you”. That’s the one emotion of which I’m certain. That’s the sentiment. That’s the transaction that has value. Thank you.

I’ve wrestled with ways to say this and they all end up with me telling stories. I don’t want to tell stories. That belabors things. What I want to do is say “thank you”. I planted roots in Demopolis. Were it not clear that God had prepared ministerial and professional opportunities for me elsewhere, I don’t know that I ever would have left. Were it not for what I gained during a decade of telling stories and being allowed to grow professionally and personally in Demopolis, I don’t know that I ever would have been ready for what was to come. So thank you.

Thank you to Michael Clements and Danny Smith for partnering with me in 2012 to form The West Alabama Watchman and enabling it to become something more than just a pet project. Thank you to Stewart Gwin for believing enough in The West Alabama Watchman to invest time and money in partnership. Thank you to Jan McDonald for picking up my share of the West Alabama Watchman load and running with it, guaranteeing that this thing that I adore so much will continue to thrive and serve this town we both love. Thank you to the businesses that continue to partner with The Watchman. Thank you to the readers who embraced a new idea and a new entity enough to make it part of their daily lives. Thank you to the people that make up the community I have been so blessed to cover. Thank you for letting me tell your stories.

Thank you to The West Alabama Watchman. It allowed me to continue to do what I love to do. It provided for my family when I lacked any other answer. It gave me the platform to serve my community. It launched me into so many dreams and opportunities I never could have foreseen.

Thank you to Demopolis. You didn’t have to, but you embraced me. You became home. You taught me about neighbors and community. You showed me the beauty in an easier pace.  You loved my children like a village loves its own. You proved true the simple, Southern proverb emailed to me on my very first day in your employ. I did wear out a pair of jeans here. And I did not want to leave.

I’m at the end of a thing. I’m supposed to say something.

Thank you.