On our last call together eight years ago I expressed sadness that we likely would never speak again. I remember Mia saying something similar to “Well, I didn’t talk to (another friend) for eight years and now we are friends again. Certainly, that can happen. I had dinner last night with someone I’d not, until a few years ago, spoken to for six years. Lives change, people change. It’s been eight years for Mia and I, a little more since I’m writing this later in 2025. Life does certainly change. When Mia ambushed me at the bar in the title picture of this website with an innocuous “usual Tuesday meetup” I was in my early forties. I turn 51 in a couple weeks which is still unbelievable to me for many reasons. I think about Mia from time to time, wonder if she had kids after she married, wonder how her extended family is doing, some of which I knew somewhat. I still point out Old Parkland to people in my car when we drive by on the occasion I’m in Texas and remember all the things she told me about it when she worked on it. I did a photoshoot there a few years ago for someone who worked onsite. Some reading this might think me obsessed or strange for continuing to write entires here and maybe I am strange. Obsession however would be an incorrect observation. While certainly, I think about Mia here and there as I mentioned, it is in a vain of “I wonder what shes up to these days”.
If you found yourself here, you might wonder why there are no yearly entries between five and seven. While I never intended to go further than four years, numbers have importance to me and I never forgot that last phone call where she made the “eight year” reference and always intended on writing an eight year entry. So here we are.
This will be my last entry here however. I’ve spent the last five years in various parts of the world, from sailing the islands of Croatia to backpacking in Peru for a month. Through all of that, a nagging of “somethings not right” has presided just under the conscious daily thoughts one has and now, I have an answer to what “isn’t right.” Therefore I’m tying up lose ends, closing books after a last chapter and tidying up. This is part of that trend.
I’ll end by saying, Mia, if you ever come across this, I loved our time together. I’ve remembered it well and fondly. I’m sorry things had to end the way they did but I’m glad you did what you needed for your own mental health and life. I hope happiness has found you often and I hope you also remember our time fondly for the most part. Good luck on all your ventures. =)