Writing this blog is something I’m curious about cutting back on—or even ending. I remember how the AA group Sober Sisters turned into a family. I’d come in at 6 p.m. on Tuesdays to familiar 70-year-old-plus faces with eyes that twinkled behind the wrinkles at the corners of their mouths. I’d gotten a sponsor, a woman with 40 years of sobriety, someone I trusted and felt cared for. I needed her guidance, her bluntness, her, “Jaclynn, let it go.”
The same five women, without any new members, along with the cost of renting a basement space in a church, put the bank account in the red. A hard decision to pull the plug was made, but with it came a rich and meaningful conversation about endings. About the natural occurrence of endings. About how endings can open the door to something not yet discovered. Their wisdom bandaged the it’s not fair I gripped so tightly in my thoughts, and I trusted that although it would be different, we would do it together.
The sense of responsibility I feel toward the page will not change. What will change is my mental space. I need it. I’m not quite sure for what yet. It feels like a jump into the unknown, reaching for a bar I’m not sure I can catch. But I need to try. I need to see.
I want to thank you for your support. Part of me wants to grieve the loss of this—our time together—and I very well may. I will carry you with me.
Thank you. And as always…Love, Jaclynn