Old Mission

Yesterday I found myself standing in front of Old Mission Lighthouse, looking inland from the perspective of a frozen lake. I came out to make a fun little video of me playing an ocarina by a snowman, but only seconds after playing those final notes I fell into a deep an utter despair of depression. I could barely speak, barely move. I felt cold but sweaty in the hands. I acted weird around my family, and the silence of the frozen bay entered my brain like a parasite killing of any sense of guard I've placed around any raw unprocessed emotions I had yet to sort through. It was intense and confusing, and I would still be floating in the mystery of that experience if it had not been for my mother sending me a picture of a painting of that lighthouse that hangs on the walls of her home. My dad fancied that lighthouse as one of his favorites, and the painting verified that I was indeed standing quite a ways out into the frozen lake. 

Maybe I was visited by a ghost. Maybe I was the ghost.

That night I fell asleep into intense dreams about a *friend from a long time ago. 

*Demirci

Val

This morning I met Val. Nice lady. Works at the hotel. She made a passing comment about living with a Turkish person, and I couldn't help but prod that conversation a bit further. Her husband passed away a few years ago and she had an open room in the house, so she accepted a young student from Turkey as a roommate. A few years and two trips to Turkey later and she's hooked on the culture. That's a beautiful thing, finding something so special through a time of loss. 

7:56AM at Blossom Hotel and Suites, Traverse City, Michigan

When you lose a parent, people are going to tell you to get help and talk to somebody. You know that's the best advice ever and you know deeply that if you don't take it you are going to suffer. But, you put it off until it's been three years and you're sitting by a hotel pool with your son listening to Journey while using the chlorine to cover up why your teary eyes are all so red. 

That's what I did. I didn't talk to anyone and now I'm fatalistic about everything. I think about death all the time. Sometimes I see flashes of my father on his last days and I feel a loneliness come over me that I could not compare to anything else. 

I can talk about that here, right? That's the premise of this new version of my online ramblings. I'm going to be completely transparent and speak freely. I don't really have any strong opinions about anything like others do in their blogs. I'm just a lonely and confused person who has to prove to his son that the world is something more than a lonely and confusing place. That's no easy task. 

Sleeping Bear

I found a minute to be alone and write. How about that? Where am I, you ask? Physically speaking, I'm in the lobby of a hotel somewhere on the outskirts of Traverse City. Mentally speaking, I suppose I'm somewhere far, far away. Now, that leaves a bit of pressure on a person like me who tends to feel the bottleneck effect of not allowing oneself time to think for an extended period of time. I don't check in on myself. I don't ask how I'm doing or anything like that, not commonly, but here I am finding a moment to wonder how much I care if I'm going grey or how much I care that my face is a bit more wrinkly than it used to be. Should I be rationalizing and searching for approval that I'm still on the right path or should I just let it be what it is, this very moment? 

Last night I had dreams that were sounds only. Maybe it came from the hum of a piece of equipment in the ceiling controlling the room temperature or just the buzz of exhaustion from looking after my family too closely these past few weeks. Effort isn't the opposite of happiness. I learned that recently and if I don't write it somewhere I'm doomed to forget.

Back to getting older. Should I be searching for something the way I used to? Should it scare me if I have nothing on my mind? Am I living out the moments of success I once reached so distantly for? Man, I used to be a loose cannon. Just a click or two through this old blog will show that madness, uncertainty, and I are very old friends in a complicated yet open relationship. 

I love my family. God I love them so much. I still can't believe I'm a dad. Better yet, I can't believe I'm a dad to the best kid ever. I watched his eyes open when he woke up this morning and I was the first person he saw. I was laying in bed next to him watching the lines of light pass from the hotel curtains to the stucco painted ceilings when he twitched himself awake. It's like I was dreaming until he woke up.

We went to the mall today. That's really all we did outside of the hotel where we plan to spend the better part of this afternoon splashing between a hot tub that is too hot and a pool that is too cold. We bought some floaty swimmy arm things from Dunham's and they are sitting by the dresser waiting for him to finish playing Hunter Call of the Wild. Man, my son loves hunting. he loves fishing and all that outdoorsy stuff. That's so cool. Lets' renew our fishing license and wander around the beautiful waterways of Michigan this year. 

I hear we are going to Sleeping Bear Dunes tomorrow. I've never been there in the winter. How trippy.. 

I love you guys. I love you whoever you are. I love how few people read this anymore. 

Anywhere

It's early morning on New Year's Eve. I'm sitting at a crowded table of markers and drawing pens with two laptops set up to play Minecraft and Jurassic World Evolution 2. The second one is a surprise for Salem who is still sleeping. He was up late last night. I have about two more cups of coffee before the reality of responsibilities kicks in.

I value these moments and I've taught myself to not feel bad for taking time to myself. I don't get a lot of it. Yet, when I do have free time, I find myself sometimes thinking about people I knew a long time ago. Every so often I feel adventurous enough to reach out to someone either by Facebook message or a long email. A few days ago I wrote a very old friend who has yet to write back.

I suppose it's time to make a resolution for the new year, but I'm already a gym rat who eats consciously. I have the job of my dreams and it is starting to pay pretty well, which is great. Maybe I'll just go on being thankful for this year in the same way I'm thankful for each and every day. I still find it unwise to pass up a chance for any sort of personal growth, so here is my resolution: I'm going to find a way to make my family international again. Perhaps it will take more than a year, but I'm going to begin focusing on adventure again. It's not fair to my son to hide my past from him. 

Here I am, looking out a snowy window and letting the coffee reach my brain. Whatever the next year brings, I'm just happy to be anywhere.

12/27/2025

Awake and caffeinated. Already been to the gym. Back home and everyone is still asleep. Erykah Badu plays softly from my phone next to me. My cat chews on the side of my laptop. Winter boredom; I have a hard time relaxing. Short hair sucks. I need a new tattoo. I'm happy that I'm drawing again. Everything is interesting and important. 

Dream Machine

I've invented a dream machine, at least that's what I like to call it. Every morning like clockwork, I wake up sometime after 4 AM and drag my blanket to the couch where I'm greeted by a small square pillow and a second that is moon-shaped. Within seconds I'm back asleep in a wildly vivid dream world, and I do this every single day.

Some people have a hard time seeing clear images in their heads while others can see things clear as day. I happen to be one of those who can't really see much beyond eyelid goo, but there is hope. For whatever reason, the part of your brain that delivers brain juice to your consciousness is a different part than that which controls inner mind visualization. So, for people like me who rely on what I call a filing cabinet of information rather than a slide show, dreams have become that much more important.