August 2015

I went by the shopping center a week or so ago late at night and had to stop and look. My store still sits empty.

 Now there is another one closing too....

Paco's Paradise has been there for more

About #thefinal90

Some folks have come across this journey recently and been curious how it came to be. If you didn't go back to the beginning and start there this is a summary. 

 
A few days before the deadline of Friday, August 1st 2014, a new blog began. Launched to capture the process of letting go and ending the 19 year run of a small local business; not done for sympathy or attention but as a way of explaining what it's like to close a beloved store. There's not much written about this sort of thing but my store deserved to have it's story told.

Here is where it starts - 
http://thefinal90days.blogspot.com/2014/07/what-its-about-introduction.html

 

My shop's final story has now been shared across many

social sites. You can find it by searching 

keyword/hashtag #thefinal90. Thanks for reading.

Cleaning out a storage unit June 4th, 2015

I'm heading to a shop in a small town near me today to sell off some of the things I held onto. There isn't ever going to be another retail store for me and six months later I'm trying to remember why I held onto all this anyway. 

My van is loaded up with merchandise that someone will look at and possibly make an offer on. The store is one I've visited plenty of time and shopped at - one which maybe ten years ago began as just a tiny little space and grew into a beautifully showcased retail emporium that it is today. I'm glad to know these people planned well and made their dream come true but I can't stop thinking and wondering where I went wrong with mine. 

So much love, effort, hard work and dedication poured into my shop for all those years is now boiling down to a storage unit of stuff which needs to be sold, donated or just thrown away. The dream is over and insane as it may sound, six months later it hurts as much as it did in October of last year. I'm not letting go gracefully I guess.

 

 

Five weeks later.

I'm finally admitting how much I miss this. It seemed I would have posted sooner but the words wouldn't come, and perhaps I was trying to think about moving on instead of looking back. But the honeymoon stage that was new-found freedom from working seven days a week has faded. For the first time in two decades we could accept weekend invitations; sleep in on Saturday and not have to rush out of church on Sundays to open the shop, but that faded fast.

I miss my store, the people, my customers. It seems my creativity that grew there and turned into pieces of art is gone. It will return some time probably, but for now my soul is as empty as a birdcage with an occupant that has left.

My sweet senior friend Miss Doris must have come down to the beach this fall as she always does, but we didn't get to catch up this year. I wonder if her cancer is still in remission. We always had such long, meaningful talks about major events in one's life such as illness, loss, and holding onto hope. She loves her grandchildren so very much and I loved seeing her eyes sparkle when she told me about their latest school events and adventures. Miss Doris isn't part of my life anymore; she wasn't in the shop over the summer so I never got a chance to tell her goodbye or exchange addresses.

So many things I'm experiencing differently now that my life has changed. On November 14th I went to the grocery store for the first time as an unemployed citizen, no longer a small business owner. November 18th was the first church meeting that I attended since April, before the summer season began, and a Thanksgiving without customers and a busy weekend seemed hollow to me.

Silently, one by one, these things tell me that I loved something too much. It's all going to turn into just a memory soon, and those years when my soul came alive and for the first time in my life I was happier than I'd ever been, will fade. It feels as if the snow globe that was my world has shattered. I loved being a part of your lives.