Saying Adios…

            In some Latin American cultures, it’s customary to say ‘see you later’ instead of ‘good-bye’. Adios has an air of uncertainty as to whether the parties will ever meet again; we say our ‘good-byes’ to a loved one who has passed away, to a house in which we lived as we close the door one last time after moving out, or some personal part of our lives that has slipped away never to return. See you later implies that it won’t be long before we see each other again. See you later – hasta luego – is received more like a promise than a possible end to something. In either case, it’s easier to say see you later than it is to say good-bye.

            In December of 2013, I covered my very first event as the news editor for The Wanderer. It was the Tinkhamtown Chapel Christmas Carol Sing-along. Since then I’ve contributed to 319 editions of the newspaper, attended more meetings than I can count, and have met hundreds of wonderful people from the Tri-Town. Now, for my 320th edition, I say ‘adios’ to my position as news editor as I say ‘hola’ to a month in Puerto Rico.

            “Are you excited for your holidays?” my boyfriend, in his usual Scottish way of referring to a vacation, asked me this week. He’s pledged his support and has agreed to care for the dogs and cats for the month of February while I am away. “I wouldn’t call a month of mold removal, mixing concrete, and roof-repair a holiday,” I said.

            In September 2019, I wrote a story for The Wanderer about the relief efforts in the Bahamas of the Mattapoisett-based non-profit All Hands and Hearts and spoke on the phone with the organization’s CEO, Erik Dyson. As we finished our phone call, I thanked him for his time and casually commented that perhaps one day I just might sign up as a volunteer in one of the All Hands and Hearts projects.

            In preparation for writing the story, I visited allhandsandhearts.org to learn more about the organization and within five minutes, I had navigated to the “get involved” page and was filling out the volunteer sign-up form for the rebuilding project in Puerto Rico, still ongoing nearly two years after Hurricane Maria devastated the island.

            I didn’t have to think long about it. I was experiencing one of those rare, elusive, perfect moments in life when something happens and everything about it “just feels right.” You know the feeling; something presents itself seemingly from out of nowhere and despite any vague sense of the unknown of this new direction, the absence of fear I felt was essentially a nod from the universe that it was absolutely okay to go for it; that this is just what my soul needs.

            It never does get old to see your byline in print and you never do lose that thrill of seeing somebody reading your newspaper, which is why this isn’t ‘adios’ – it’s an ‘hasta luego’ for us, Tri-Town. I will return in March and my byline will now and again be found in the pages of The Wanderer from time to time, and I also look forward to reporting on the relief efforts in Puerto Rico. 

            Community journalism is such a critical aspect of our local democracy, and I am satisfied to have participated in this tradition, especially during these precarious times when it seems weekly newspapers all over the country are folding under, leaving a void at the very heart of communities. The Wanderer has proudly served the Tri-Town communities for nearly three decades and it has been my pleasure to be a part of it.

By Jean Perry