Tuesday, September 25, 2018
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Turning to the next page

“Life is an enfoldment, and the farther we travel, the more we comprehend. To understand the things that are at our door is the best preparation for understanding those that lie beyond.”—Hypatia


 Nearly 20 years ago, the door swung wide open and I settled into a job at The Times, starting a new chapter of my life as a mother and being a part of your lives.

I have loved most of the minutes of my job because I care about you, the reader, and the stories you have to tell.

Through the years, I’ve been captivated by the tale of a German prisoner of war survivor, laughed along with the Brady Beauties, watched the transformation of Lake Helen into a tranquil and user-friendly lake and wrote about the efforts of the city, school and hospital to become partners in the operation of a community wellness center, to name a few highlights.

Each time I’ve pulled up a chair at city, school and occasional hospital board meetings to record what makes our town tick has been enjoyable, in large part because of this progressive and charming town.

I’ve felt proud of our students while watching them grow through disappointments and successes and have loved the occasional calls about rescued hawks and other creatures and cute kids behind lemonade stands.

A couple of years ago, I began to feel a niggle, which has grown more insistent, and experienced a door slowly creaking open to another phase of life, which no longer includes being part of The Times staff.

As Joyce Sequiche Hifler writes in a Cherokee Feast of Days, “This is the turning point, a place where we begin to see over the hill and around the bend. A new path comes into view and there is no need to look over the shoulder.”

I’m ready to soak up sunsets and flower fragrances and embrace the changing seasons instead of complaining about them. I long to be part of my life instead of searching for stolen moments in which to live it.

With whatever is written on the next page, I carry a bit of each of you in my heart.