I retired from my career in librarianship yesterday. The tears didn’t really come until the office was packed up, the dead moths hiding behind the picture frames were gingerly placed in the trash, the shelves were dusted, and important items – a semi-automatic nerf gun, the essential cold-weather space heater, the rubber plant that should have been potted months ago but is still rooting in a jar of water, and a gigantic rear-view mirror (crucial for sitting at a work station with a view to the mountains and your back to the door) — were bequeathed.  But when I sat in my chair (the one that my friend and former coworker, Sue, had lovingly hand-customized for the comfort and odd requirements of a fused spine) and looked at the bare-naked shell of the place known as “Wiki-World” and the home of “The Queen of … Stuff” (my areas of expertise being, I guess, somewhat unquantifiable), the memories just leaked out of my eyes and rolled down my face.

I was the original owner of this office – a continuous occupant from the day we moved into the newly-completed building in April 1998.  It was the space where I honed my skills, mentored library interns and catalogers-in-training, brainstormed solutions to many a tricky technical problem, and cataloged well over 75,000 physical items – from books and bike locks to Blu-rays and book group bags and a host of things in between, both physical and electronic.  But most importantly, it was the place where I truly discovered my professional identity and finally got most comfortable in my librarian skin.  And it was quite an emotional experience to dismantle it piece by piece, knowing that it would never by “my office” again.  Every item that was wrapped & packed or photographed & tossed or was simply recycled had a story attached.  Some were recounted to my officemate, Nuala, and some were just quietly reflected upon in the silence of my mind.  But, oh my, yes, there were stories – stories that over time have become irrevocably intertwined with the place.

Looking around the realm of the Wiki Queen for the last time, was something akin to the feeling of closing the cover on a really good book – a story that you knew would eventually end, but whose characters had become so engaging that you wanted to savor every last moment with them.  But, in fact, stories and dynasties and royal reigns all come to an end.  And new chapters and sequels and compelling characters move in to fill the void.  And by the time I got up from my chair to hand my husband the last box to carry to the car, Nuala was placing a well-potted plant in the windowsill and preparing to enjoy her new mountain view.  And that’s just as it should be.

I’ve got the stories tucked away in my heart.  I have valuable and cherished friendships that will continue.  Hopefully, I will spend the coming winters in places that aren’t next to an uninsulated exterior wall and require the constant use of a space heater. I’ll be memorizing new stories, in new places, involving familiar old characters and enchanting new ones.  And I will feel enormous gratitude for the richness of it all, just as I did yesterday when, for the final time, I turned off the computer monitor and closed the door to Westminster Public Library at College Hill’s office L-181.