Pip Pip, Cheerio, Patch Friends. You're Truly 1 of a Kind.

No one likes goodbyes. But I think I have more of an aversion to them than most goodbye-hating folks. 

That's why I've waited until the last possible moment to write this editorial, which I prefer to call my "see you later" column.

If I had a company headstone, I like to think it would read, "The Eternally-'Patchy' Carrie Frillman, June 28, 2010-Oct. 15, 2013." That window will forever signify my favorite time, thus far, in my journalism career. 

And considering that before joining my oh so lovable—not to mention oh so quirky—Chicago-area team of Patch go-getters, my reporting had led me to fly an open cockpit WWII plane; ride in a two-person crop dusting helicopter; and compassionately cover one of the most gruesome university shootings in our nation's history, that's saying a lot.

I've known for 60 days that my Patch tenure would expire today. Although I must admit that I can't stand behind the company's decision to let a relentless gem like me go, I know that business is business. 

Ultimately, I want us to take every possible measure to ensure that Patch succeeds. I consider my layoff a contribution to us reaching our profitability finish line and as awkward as it seems, I am pretty proud of that contribution. I am thankful my Patch executives have graciously given me these two months to grieve, reflect, connect and pull myself up by the bootstraps. 

I'll continue to do that moving forward; keeping in mind all of you, my readers, who have kept me so content for the past few years. You've certainly taught me that for as much negativity that exists in this the world, there is triple the positivity. 

I'll remember covering a plane crash into the XSport Fitness in Naperville, where workout fanatics were helping guide strangers to safety. I'll remember an awe-inspiring caravan of Tinley Park residents welcoming a snarled, rusty beam from the World Trade Center to their village. I'll remember my favorite fire chief, Ken Dunn, who so kindly aided me in navigating my way through what was foreign territory to me.

I'll remember my North Side parents venturing to the same unknown South Side suburban territory to redecorate a wig room at the American Cancer Society and those donations that flowed in after I had an editorial posted on the matter for merely 10 minutes. 

I'll remember the forever-optimistic Albert Lopez, who was homeless before finding some of the most compassionate people I have ever met in a discreet refuge known as the Lincoln Park Community Shelter.

Those are memories I hope you'll keep, too.

Now that I have done my part to ensure that seven communities have the "hyperlocal" resource they all deserve, I ask that you do the same. 

I like to consider my Patches the virtual equivalent of a local watering holes, post offices or coffee shops—places where residents flock to connect. 

It's your job, now, to sustain them. Those of you in Lincoln Park, Bucktown-Wicker Park, North Center-Roscoe Village, Lincoln Square, Lake View, Naperville and Tinley Park should exhaust your own special meeting places—your Patches, your virtual neighborhoods. 

Make use of your free sites—they'll all remain open—and for goodness sake, keep them alive forever. Post to the events calendars. Create your own blogs. Blaze trails just because you can. Blaze them for me, my friends.

My sole hope is that I provided you with an invaluable tool that will outlive all of us. 

I'm sending a humble "thank you" you to all of you who welcomed me with such wide open arms. You've proven again and again that this truly is the "City of Big Shoulders."

In the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."

I look so forward to that place where our trails become intertwined, once again.

Grateful hat tip,

Carrie Frillman