The summit of Mt. Whitney (14,505'), the highest peak in the lower 48. Check out the strap - the winds were 70 mph that morning.
At the summit of Mt. Whitney (14,505′), the highest peak in the lower 48. Check out the camera strap – the winds were 70 mph that morning.

What I wrote last night was something I’d wanted to say for a long time.

I hate secrets.

They lie on you like something to shame. They carry weight. They restrict freedom.

But I don’t want it to be misinterpreted.

I think a lot of you got it. But maybe some of you didn’t.

I’ve worked really hard to get here.

And I’m in love – with my wife, with my children, even, yes, with me.

I will not ruin that. So, please, don’t worry.

Last night was a confessional. From all of the letters many of you have written me today and in days past, I’ve learned – just like the old cliché, “The truth will set you free.” Lots of people we respect rebound from dark places to be incredible people.

So yesterday was a reminder to myself – it’s one I repeat often in my head – to be careful; and a nod to you that, hey, this is who I am. I’m not ashamed.

But, if you could know what’s in my mind, you’d see an almost boundless joy. I see with such amazing clarity what a wonderful life I live.

For many years, I toiled because it felt like I had to.

Now, I toil because I want to.

And because you keep saying I’ve got to write that book.

There is no book without the darkest corners, right? What a boring book that would be …

Consider the prologue written.

Here’s to a beautiful Sunday, Ed

1 comment on “Epilogue

  1. Annie Vickery

    I never thought anything other than you are a man very aware of how precious everything he has is to him.

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