Trying to Write a Letter

One of my tasks for this week is to write my official retirement communication, to be sent out to every client. It’s essentially my last letter to the three hundred or so people who I have served for the past 42 years. As someone who has written hundreds of letters, nearly 3000 blog posts, twenty-six short stories, and am about to wrap up my fifth novel, you would think that one more letter would be a cinch. But I have set down to write it several times over the past two weeks and have come up with…nothing.

As my last day approaches I am having no second thoughts. I am making the right decision at the right time. But there is a finality looming and that is the thing  that brings all the feels. Do anything in life for 42 years, you develop a fondness for its routines and rhythms. It’s 8:35 on a Tuesday morning—you know where you’re supposed to be—pouring yourself a cup of coffee and teasing Kristin Reihl about something. You will miss the little things. You will miss that client who always calls complaining that I haven’t updated the away message on my phone. You will miss getting harassed by the client who whenever I don’t answer right away takes delight in accusing me of being on the golf course—even when it’s snowing outside. You will miss a great many small things.