It’s time for farewell, but we will all be OK

By now, gentle readers, I am gone, and our conversation here comes to an end.

Too soon, I know, but change comes when you least expect it. And so it comes for you and me.

Before I go, I need to confess: I’m really not cranky. That was a mask I wore to hide my true feelings. I think you saw through that in my columns.

In my house, Mrs. G. and the Little Darlings have often told me that I’m too sentimental. I’ve been accused, more than once, of being a hoarder of memories.

But the other day I realized that’s not so bad. Why would you want to lose those memories? And when I shared a story from my life, you always shared one in return, and all of that would fade away for a man made of sterner stuff. I don’t want that. Not for any kind of emotional callous.

So, if it takes a bit of heartache, that’s a small price to pay. All of you are worth it. Your stories were a gift you didn’t have to give. Thank you for that.

At this point, I’m sure you are asking: What’s next, Cranky Dad?

The answer, of course, is just over the horizon. Mrs. G. and I are going to go there. We’re going to have a few adventures, like we’ve always planned.

I’ll let you know what we discover.

We’re going to be OK. I promise.

Just you wait and see.