The End of Things

What's great about having a blog is you can sometimes find out how strange you really are...sometimes, if I put something out there and there are no comments, or some varying degrees of difference, I can usually tell just how far off base I really am...and on the flip side...I am also able to, at times, wrap the virtual support around me like a worn comfy sweater, realizing that I am not the only one.
That said: let's see if I'm the only one.
I hate the end of things.
I hate the end of summer.
I hate putting away the Christmas decorations.
I hate the last day of vacation.
I have been known to cry on the last day of...whatever...and will probably cry late Labor Day night as they close the pool for the season. Trust me, it doesn't take much. I have cried at the obvious ends: my high school graduation, the death of a relative, an awful break-up when dating, my parent's divorce...the end of a best-friendship.
However...I have found that it's the subtle things that really get me...the end of a great dinner party, the time when it comes to depart a great city that I was just visiting...the closing ceremony of the Olympics...the taking down of flags long after September 11th.
Perhaps I'm just a sap. Maybe there's a bunch of people just like me out there...either way, I don't anticipate change in the foreseeable future. I'm too old to change; and a small part of me would never want to...it would mean another end, and as you know...I tend to not like the end of things.