Every story of grief is also a story of love. As we put my parents’ (and our!) beautiful house on the market, I’ve realized that it’s no longer a home without mom and dad. It’s more about the people than the place; I’ll always dearly miss walking into their entry way and calling out a greeting to my beloved parents. And now Typepad, my blog host of 21 years, is calling it quits. It’s no surprise, just a huge disappointment. Although I could continue blogging and work hard to save my precious archives and photos, I don’t know if it’s worth it or if the possibly fruitless efforts will just cause more frustration. On September 30, 2025, which would have been my dad’s 97th birthday, my blog will disappear. I’ve put my life into this site: my feelings, thoughts, photos, links, book reviews, and memories. I don’t think I can re-create that magic anywhere else. Perhaps I’m simply too old and tired. And dispirited.

The other day when we were discussing his Gigi (my late mom), Obro told me, “When people die, we still love them.” Those were wise words from a 2 1/2-year-old. It’s like that with blogs too. I’ve loved all the people I’ve met through this site and appreciate the many insightful and supportive comments. Stargazer has been an unforgettable part of my life and I’m heartsick to lose over two decades of writing and friendship.
Perhaps I’ll feel more ambitious about migrating this blog to WordPress in the coming weeks, but I don’t make any promises. The person who could help me with the tech would be John; unfortunately, I don’t want him to know I have a blog. I’ve written too much personal *stuff* that I would rather he not read. Until the final curtain call, I remain yours truly, Stargazer.
2004-2025 RIP
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