Leaving embellish for the last time

Dream, plan, do
(2008)

On New Year's Eve 2013, after finishing work for the day, I headed up to embellish to do my normal jobs:

• Take the garbage and recycling out
• Bring the sign, dog treats, and water bowl inside
• Climb the ladder up to the storage area in the back room and mutter f-bombs as I crawl on my knees through seven years of accumulated shit searching for god knows what

Then, it was over. I looked around, dumbfounded. I didn't need to do anything.

That was it.

Moving forward

I walked behind the cash-wrap station (technical term) and hugged my wife.

I had no idea I would be as profoundly affected as I was at that moment. We'd been thinking about it, discussing it, and planning it for a long time. But now, the time was here.

We locked the door and took a few selfies. Final selfies (no boobs or butts, though I tried) - because the store was no longer ours.

Suddenly, I started tearing up. And if you know me, that means it was totally over. I held it back for a little bit, and then... Niagra Falls!

Throughout my entire life, those words have always been followed by the classic Three Stooges bit. Not this time.

This time, I was all emo up in there. I cried for at least an hour.

Giving the wife some "props"

Forgive my sentimentality, but my wife really built something special - something that matters to the community. I've never been so proud of her as I was right then.

Not only did she have the guts to start a business, she had the guts to know when it was time to walk away. You see, for as different as my wife and I are, there's one way that we've always been the same: We're either all-in, or we're out.

Barb built a great store because she lived and breathed it for 5-and-a-half years. But as the cliche goes, it took a 24/7/365 effort.

Carrie - one of Barb's best friends - owns embellish now, and I know she'll kick ass. I'm really happy for her to be back doing what she loves to do. And i think she has an "off" button, which will help her preserve her sanity.

Closing the door

Walking out of the store for the last time was weird. But so is life.

And so it goes. 

But let's be honest, we'll probably see embellish Asheville by 2015, right?