Dear Salem (December 14, 2023)

Hey Salem,

It's been a while since I've written you, and I wanted to tell you a few things. Well, you're sick right now, so I want to tell you I'm sorry to see you feeling so poopy. You're sleeping in your bed next to Mommy. 

Christmas is coming. You had fun with it last year, but you're pumped about it this year like nothing else. Grandma gave you a stack of books as presents that you open every day like an advent calendar. You also get to pop a new dino from it's box in this really cool National Geographic calendar too. 

I'm going nuts trying to keep the surprises I have you a secret, and it's the most magical thing in the world to see you as a child like this. You're only 3.. 

I mean.. are you reading this someday? How old are you? What has happened in the world? Do you even remember being 3? 

I personally vaguely remember, but those core memories really starting to kick in for me around 4. So, this must be extra weird for you to read. That makes me happy.

You're a cool kid. You have such dreamy light in your eyes and I am constantly trying to think of new ways to create fun things for you. I know you're going to school soon, but for now your entire world is this house, and these are very special days for your mother and I.

Time is looking really good on you. I'm excited about the little dude you're becoming, and I'm much more content with the passing of time than I thought I would be. Just keep going, Salem. You have such a beautiful path ahead of you that wherever it leads your heart may always be content.

(don't let) things fall apart

Apparently I wrote that as a post on Facebook one year ago today.

Then I remembered why.

Open Letter to Parents

Permission to be real about parenting? This is something nobody tells you before you have children.

We spend years trying to figure ourselves out wondering why we are here and what our purpose in life could be. We have struggles and anxieties, self-doubt, fear, all that good stuff, and we carry this belief (I did, at least) that it will somehow sort itself out when we get older.

Then one day, if it's what your destiny asks of you, you have a child, and suddenly all of those things you were dealing with are put on hold for a while. Nobody asks how you're doing or wonders how you feel about changes in your world. You're fine with it, you think you are, and you just start working harder to provide. Life gets tough quick, but you're doing it for a greater purpose.

Then one day you look in the mirror and ask yourself how you're doing and you have absolutely no idea how to answer that question.

So, this post is for the parents out there who I know are feeling me on this one. I want to tell you that you are some of the greatest teachers I've ever had. I'm amazed by how awesome the people in my life with children carry themselves, and I'm certainly paying attention. I'm rooting for you guys, and I hope you are for me too.

True love,

Mook

Lower Light

Damn. I got it too. 

We're all going a little nuts, and we haven't left the house in a while. I got a bit upset with Salem because he wouldn't eat his food, so I stopped his cartoons and made him go for his nap earlier than normal. Then I laid down on the couch and felt like an asshole for a while, especially considering the conflicts we are likely to have in the future. I think I did it right, but parenting is hard. My family has a sugar problem, and I don't want my son to think he can live off of chocolate and sweets. 

Look at me.

Listen to the stuff I talk about now in my blog as it reaches its 18th year. 

I love it. 

Am I doing a good job at this parenting thing? I sure think so. I hope so. 

My head feels stuffed with wool.

Lowlight

It's a moment that I want to capture, although I'm not exactly sure why. Elena and Salem have covid. I escaped it somehow, and I'm just picking up things around the house. My mom stopped by to drop off some fruit, and she told me through a crack in the door, "this isn't our year." Today was supposed to be our first Black family Christmas party in many years, and we were all looking forward to it. Salem was going to meet Santa and all that. Our family has felt a number of heavy loses as well. It would have been nice to end the year on a positive not for us.

I'm not sick, at least not yet (knocks on wood). This passing of this illness just pulls us deeper into our isolation, one that has already begun early this year. And, everyone is so busy these days. I miss my friends and now my family too. Perhaps this is fueling whatever it is that is emerging from within me a deep desire to get back into the travel world, but I'm not even sure where to begin now. 

(*note: I have been staring at maps again. That is usually the first sign of wanderlust, at least in myself.)

Maybe I'm being selfish. It's not my time to think about my needs. I love that about being a father. Becoming Salem's dad has provided me with things I never knew I needed. I can't really explain that right now. Now that he has a few years below him acting as a solid foundation, I feel that the time has come for him to see something far away, and I have to make sure I'm not searching with only my interests in mind but also his. 

I knew this journey into the forest would be a long and slow one, but I'm already beginning to see the trees surrounding me. I know this is just an analogy, yet it's very real to me. 

I'm worried about mom. I worry about a lot of things, but she's on the top of my list. This winter is going to be a hard one, so I write this in hopes of health and inspiration. I know this is all part of the transitional process. 

I wonder what journeys await our endurance through these months of lowlight.

The Ghost in my Tree

That little white plastic bag is still in my tree, or at least a small part of it. Today is especially cold and windy, yet it flutters in the wind like it still plans on being visible this Spring. I don't know why I haven't done anything about it, actually I like it a bit. Salem and I laid on our backs a few times while trying to catch our breath after a game of 'superhero dinosaurs', and that was when I eventually got him to see the ghost in the tree.

It's cold out, snowy in the shade. I'm starting to feel a bit more tired all the time, and slacking on exercise and diet is always tempting. It's just that time of year when people start to hide in between important feasts, and we all take a bit of time to develop some things about ourselves. I'd like to develop watercolor painting as well as classical guitar, but I'm also tempted to lay on the floor and waste this little bit of free time I've found today. I'm at that phase of parenting, and I won't complain because I love every second of it. However, I would be lying if I said I wasn't overdue for some slightly extended time with myself that isn't work-related.

The talisman around my neck seems to be working. I knew this would be a challenging journey, and it's best to take it slow. I haven't yet talked to Ari about it. I'm not sure why.

I wonder if my friends are still inspired like they used to be. I feel so distant these days, and it's hard to completely catch up over only a few beers and a few classic retro games. Even those times are fewer and farther behind. So, perhaps this is part of my inspiration to seek the path toward another journey. I've always done these alone, and although it's easy to say I am more alone than even, I would be a fool to overlook the fact that I have a family to journey with now. 

Thus, I sigh and lean back. I go to sip a cup of tea that is long cold and empty. I feel creatively inspired, but perhaps afraid to kick it into gear. My paintings speak to me, and I can say that comfortably knowing that that virtually nobody reads this blog anymore. I feel at best when I'm creatively turned on, and I am oftentimes afraid that I will fail upon delivery. That mean I'll set up my paper and brush with fresh paint and water only to create something terrible. 

As I write this, I suddenly feel the uncontrollable urge to create something. I bet it sucks. I'll be back in a bit.

____

Update: it sucked.

Aquamarine

I'm a pile of blankets on the couch. It's the day after Thanksgiving, but I was away in Mexico when we celebrated it last week. 

I'm on a journey again, or at least the beginning of one. I'm about to head into the 'forest', but I'm not ready yet. I'm pacing back and forth at the entrance like a neurotic hiker making sure he has all of his unnecessary equipment.

Around my neck is an aquamarine stone given to me by a sincere and true friend, a stone that had been missing for a few years now come to think of it. It was lost somewhere in our house, I could sense it.

Every now and then I would be reminded of my stone and suddenly feel the urge to get my precious item back, but I was never successful in finding it beneath our family's clutter. It wasn't until recently when I saw a funny but crude reel on Instagram (I don't wanna sound _____ or anything, but I love rocks), and for some reason that was the one that made me want to find my aquamarine. And, I did. It was hiding somewhere in one of my wife's sacred boxes filled with other important elements of our travels together. 

This stone is not a matter of travel to me, not exactly. This stone has part of my soul in it, and I long to free it during this next year or so. It has a lesson teach me and a store to tell. Ari would be into that. He did something to this stone to look after me, and he's always been a glowing light to my path.

I think I'm almost ready to enter the forest. I crossed a rapid river to arrive here upon the forest's mysterious entrance, and I'm equally ready to leave my woes on the other side. Yet, it makes wonder if those woes are entangled around my inherent need for solitude. How to I enter this forest without leaving my son behind or endangering him? It makes me wonder even more deeply if he is to wander through his own forest, and how I could protect him on his journey. He is on his own path, yet our worlds are adventure in their own colorful universe.

The forest is a strange and scary place for these reasons. Enter at your own risk, but be sure to bring a protective amulet!

My son has started asking why, and he is doing so much more frequently than he ever has before. It's funny because lately I have been too.

Its kind of strange how one day we suddenly pop into existence in a society that has already been formed on a planet we cannot comprehend. 

As a parent, I've come to realize that we have only a limited time of our youth to search for these answers before having kids of our own. Truthfully, however, I thought I'd have more answers by now, but I'm nowhere closer than I was when I began asking questions of my own.

I have no idea why we are here, I don't really care either. Being here on this planet with my son is the most real thing I've ever felt, and I've finally realized that this isn't just a dream anymore. I have a job to do, and I plan to do it well. 

Alien

I need to write down how I feel right now. Maybe you get me.

I'm lonely. I miss my kid. Yet, I'm deeply proud of this amazing opportunity to work with brilliant young people here in Mexico. A student told me recently that no other professor has ever sat and talked with them, nor remembered their name. It broke my heart a bit because everyone should have somebody to talk to.

Are humans naturally lonely people? Do they seek connections with others to validate their own meaning? Do they hurt others to satisfy the stinging burn of their own pain?

Ever feel like an alien? I've spent four decades and traveled to dozens of countries trying to figure out human beings, but I'm no closer than I was when I felt terrified in first grade. I smile a lot, and everyone thinks I'm happy all the time. I'm horrified of people, and just trying to navigate this weird planet is a heavy task sometimes. I have a job to do, and I'm going to raise my son with love and light.

I think I'll go for a walk.

October 24, 2023

I was going to begin this post from a fancy hotel room somewhere in central Mexico, but this jazz music is so inviting to my mind. 

A full day's headache to prepare for a five day journey. I feel like I used to take less time to pack for four months. 

I'm no longer a backpacker. I have a special bag for my work shoes. They are pointy in the toes. That's weird that this is happening to me.

These work trips make me feel like a secret agent. I've always wanted to take work trips. 

I can't believe I'm a professor now. 

The older I get, the less I have any clue how to read people. I haven't the slightest idea how others perceive me. 

It's Fall Now

Hey Salem,

It's fall now. Your mom is working at an event nearby and you are sound asleep on one of your famous naps. You pulled me down with you for about twenty minutes. I'm still in dreamland. I love these days when it's just the two of us. I like when all of us are together, but there is something special about being alone with you. I don't know how I got to be so blessed that I can work from home and spend lots of time with you. I don't know a lot of things.

When you turned three, it was as if you became this new person over night. You had a riot at your party, and when I recently asked you what was the happiest you have ever been, you said it was at your birthday party. You want some buddies, and I'm trying hard to find them for you. You're starting school in January. I'm so happy for you. 

Salem, your dad is a complicated person, even though he likes to believe in his own simplicity. He has a hard time navigating this world sometimes, and he made up a way that works for him. I guess he would want the same for you, and he is.. I am.. very proud of you for the person you have become so far. This world scares your father sometimes, and at certain points of his life he wasn't so sure if there would ever be a light in his world. That's when he met your mommy all over again, and that's when we all got to meet you. Our lives have never been the same since you've been around, and we are trying every day to become better people for you. 

We're only human. That's one of the unspoken mottos of this house because we all know what it's like to feel overwhelmed. Your mother and I don't believe in 50/50, but sometimes 80/20. That means we understand when the other isn't feeling their best, and we know this is a safe place to ask for a little help. I love you, my boy. I'll keep you safe.

~~~~~

It's fall now, as I've said. This is my favorite time of year.  I feel so creatively reborn, and I deeply wish for this feeling to last me through the winter, hopefully for a long time. I haven't felt this way in so long. It's my job to teach this feeling to my son, and show him how to embrace his own creative freedom. I'll be in Mexico soon. I love my job. I still can't believe this is all real.

Almost 3

Hi there, Salem

This post is directly to you.

It's a rainy day, and it seems it's always a rainy day when I find myself a minute for a quiet thought. I can't say I've been busy in the way that most people find themselves busy, but my brain is so occupied sometimes that I forget to live in the moment. My life is actually a wonderful blessing no matter how you look at it. In this blessing of a day, I find myself alone with your mom upstairs while you are spending the night at Grandma's. Mom is drawing pictures in a dimly lit corner, and I've just come inside from working out in the garage.

I miss you. I was just watching some old videos of you, and it's obvious that you've changed so much in such a short amount of time. You're a curious and thoughtful boy. You're creative, and you can make something fun out of any situation. I love playing with you. We play like I remember playing as a little kid; "you're a dinosaur, okay now you're a fast car!" We chase each other around the front yard with mom and Chibi playing in the garden as the fireflies begin to dance their beautiful patterns. This is my life. You gave me this life, and gosh, I really don't deserve it. Thunder struck as I wrote that. Maybe I just noticed it that time, but Salem, I hope it's no secret that I'm not perfect. Nobody has to pretend to be perfect in this house, and as long as I am around I want you to know that I'm a safe place. You can talk to me, and no matter how old we are I will always be your dad and you my little boy (my big boy). 

You're almost three years old. That's so cool! I can't believe I have a three-year-old dude to hang out with. You're just about the age of your first bicycle, maybe a soccer team, maybe a swim class. I love this so much, and even writing these words makes me wish you were back home today. I hope you have fun tonight, my dude. You are my home. Your heart and my heart are very old friends.

Dad

Self

It's about 6:00 in the afternoon on a Monday. My wife is coming in from Boston tonight and my son is staying at his grandparents. I'm alone and weird. A storm softly grumbles in the darkening distance. 

Sometimes I wonder what will come out of me if I ever grant myself a moment of self-expression. Self.. I've changed my 'self' a lot. I'm barely the same person I was in many of these photos scattered about this blog. I scarcely recognize him, but this isn't a post to dwell on the past. I don't really care about the past anymore anyway. I no longer cringe when I think of a younger version of myself, I just can't do that to myself anymore.

This is a new me. There are many new beginnings of 'me'. I like the different characters I've brought about in my 41 years of borrowing this shell. This new one is that of a father, and after wearing that hat I hardly spend anytime imagining any other way of living. Nothing really felt important to me the way it felt to have a son. This is also the dust-stained hat of a traveler who is almost ready to see the world again. (It felt really good to write that.)

The thunder grumbles and my neighbor Steve begins to pick up the pace as he walks a bit faster towards his destination at the end of the street. 

I've been talking to God, that is, praying. I try to pray out of gratitude more so than asking favors, but I've decided to go about this newfound faith in a very honest way. I talk to God about anything I would talk to a close friend about. I'm honest with God. I try to be. The more honest I manage to be in prayer, the better things are for me, and I think there is a deep lesson there to be learned.

I'm not a big guy. I'm like 5'9", and I can't do anything about it. I'll be in a circle of four or five dudes and I'm always the short one. I decided that since I can't do anything about it I might as well like it. I'm this age and I still think about such things. Ego is a disease I can't seem to cure. I'm trying, I mentioned that, right? 

I watched this reel the other day with David Lynch, and he's interviewing someone who seems to be a close friend. He asked his friend to describe himself, and his friend said, 'self does not exist.' That has stuck with me for days now, and I think that might be the lesson that God is trying to show me. Maybe the last few chapters of my life were about releasing the desires of self and now I finally have a chance to grow a bit. It's tempting not to grow, maybe it's scary and kind of like those late summer evenings, covered in grumbly thunder.

Contusion

I didn't make an offering to the river, I tried to take from it. Now I have bruised ribs.

It was actually pretty funny. I had just dropped my son off at his grandparents' house, and I was trying to make the most of a beautiful day. So, I took my guitar into the forest and wandered until I found a beautiful fallen tree that had completely crossed the river. I passed by twice before realizing there was no obvious path, but after a small amount of hesitation I simply wandered directly through stinging nettle and perhaps poison ivy just to reach a clearing where I could climb on top of that beautiful log. That's just what I did, but I was in for a surprise. My guitar case got caught on a branch, and I toppled over to plummet into a very solid log below me. 

My guitar didn't get wet, and I saved everything. However, I smacked my side pretty good, and I was now quite stranded at that riverbend. I didn't know what else I could do, so I sat in the sun and dried off a bit while trying to catch my breath. My side was very painful, but I managed to laugh it off a bit. Suddenly I felt thankful for the day as well as the whole experience of being bested by a fallen tree. 

There was a lesson to be learned. Sometimes nature speaks loudly, and this experience has reminded me that we can't just take without giving back. Now I'm bruised and it's very uncomfortable to lay down, but I'm somehow very thankful this happened to me.

Do Shadows Have Memories?

My house was build almost 90 years ago. The original owners were a man named Sigmund Harris and his wife Evelyn. They probably had a few children too. Apparently the family was here from the time the house was built all the way until about twenty years ago when only Evelyn remained here. She was known to gather the fallen flowers from the magnificent magnolia tree in front of the house one by one and put them in buckets. I'm not certain, but the story goes that Sigmund planted that tree for her birthday, anniversary or perhaps Mother's Day. Today it's probably the biggest magnolia tree in our city.

The house was a rental for 17 year after that. I hear there were some interesting characters to pass through including a violently alcoholic couple that actually left damage on the fence during a drunken brawl. Like Sigmund and Evelyn, the many renters also came and when, and now my little family lives here. We have a little candle shop in the basement and I work from home as a traveling professor. Salem grew up here.

I could only wonder if the house remembers us by our shadows. What would they say about us?

Pluto, what's the name of the moon?

 

Dino Bones

Maybe I chose a poor time to write, but in many ways this morning is very telling of my life these days. Elena is minutes from leaving to go set up at an event down the street and Salem is still sleeping. It's peaceful among the anticipation of today's event. 

Sometimes Salem and I play made up games together, and I wanted to remember them. One of them is called Speed Juice, and it's probably the funniest of all. We found a little red car that says the words 'Speed Juice' on the side, either a Hotwheels or Matchbox toy. Salem thinks it's a riot when I pretend to take a sip from the car and suddenly feel a burst of energy (not unlike a Red Bull commercial from forever ago). "Speed Juice! Yyyeeeaaahhhh!". 

His favorite game is probably Dino Bones in any form. He loves dinosaurs, my gosh does he ever. You can just say the word dinosaur and his face will light up. The love for dinosaurs is something that seems to lead to other interests as well, and I'm constantly on the lookout for what's next. We bury toy bones in the sand box and he likes to excavate them with a little shovel and sifter. It's painfully cute. On long beach walks near our property up north, Salem likes to find strange looking pieces of driftwood and collect them as leg bones and rib cages from a t-rex or triceratops. 

I love the way he loves his triceratops. It was one of the first dinosaur words he could say, he just called him 'tops'. Uncle Ari gave him a really cool triceratops recently, and I think that makes about 15 total for his collection. 

-----

What have I been up to? We just got back from a few weeks road trip and suddenly I'm pumped to get back on the road again. I have a pretty laidback summer presenting itself for me, one that should give me plenty of time to spend with my number one dude. I deleted my Facebook, or at least erased the app. An old friend upset me and I don't want to make myself available to being upset by old friends over issues on the news. Heck, an election is due for next year. I'll be better off without it.

South Dakota.. we're going west again. I once visited a place called Medicine Wheel with my wife. She was my girlfriend at that time, yet it was a burgeoning love. Somehow visiting this place made tons of sense to both of us and our path together. It was one of many magical places we've seen together which have always shown us that we're part of a greater path.

Just like that. The famous words, "I'm not not starting to panic" are uttered by my wife, and time is growing closer to her deadline. She's supposed to be at the event prepared and set up in twenty minutes, but she hasn't even left the house yet. I love it. It's beautiful chaos that she wears so well. My won will start rustling around in his bed soon. That's my time to sneak in a morning cuddle. I don't care if those take all morning. 

Frederic

I'm at an Air Bnb right now in Frederic, Michigan watching a massive fly buzz around the light of my laptop. My family is asleep in this one room cabin rental, and after a few minutes of playing a pixelated remake of FFV on my phone for a few minutes I suddenly felt like writing. 

This seems like one of those places where I'll wake up either in the middle of the night or early in the morning and have no idea where I am. This trip through Michigan is taking us to lots of beautiful places, but out focus has mainly been on Salem who had no problem showing us how much energy he had stored up by riding in the car for four hours today. Now its that peaceful moment when he's asleep and I can think for a second or two, but writing that makes me feel weird. I guess it's one of those things that only parents can understand. Sometimes I need to be alone for a while to process, but that's not a luxury I can always indulge. Yet, in this moment I'm realize that everything is in a pretty magical balance.

I made a list about a week ago, you should too. I wrote down everything that I was worried about, and I included the little things. I only wrote one or two words for each item and it came to fill and entire sheet of lined yellow paper one time over, although in a thin column. Over the last week I've drawn a line through bout half of them, and honestly that's more than I really expected. I wrote things like, 'Salem' and 'Elena' on my list, and I'd never stop worrying about them. It made me feel really good to see that I don't have to worry as much as I thought. Perhaps that's because most of the things I worry about are needlessly fretted over, but I spend much of my waking day concerned that my son could run off in any direction at any time. He's fast, yo.

Okay, back to FFV.

Airship Challenge

The floor was lava, but now we're on an airship. It's windy and you can almost feel the engines of our airship whirring as we take off over a beautiful cliffside, one that overlooks sparkling blue water and white fluffy clouds on a perfect sunny day. 

For a while I forget that I'm at the playground. The nearby Pointe-Aux-Barques lighthouse is whimsically welcomed into the scenery and it further proves to my son's imagination that we are in an air fortress somewhere near the edge of the sky. I have this funny little thought to entertain that airships must be quite cold and windy all the time, even on short voyages. 

We take off and land in various locations while pausing only to fly our gliders (kites) through the gusty winds over Lake Huron. At some point I look to my wife and say that this is such a perfect day, and somewhere in that factuality we both came to the same conclusion that it's time for us to pack the van and head out west. There is much more to this story..

Medicine Wheel.

Magic Bug

When I was a child, I had an imaginary friend named Magic Bug. In my mind he looked strikingly similar to the Cheerio's bee, but for whatever reason only I could see him. We used to make soup together.

My grandparents had a decently sized bay window in their living room where I would sit watching little dust particles dance in the sunlight, the ones that only little kids can see. I used to gather them and make soup, for whatever reason (I was like four years old), but I needed a helper. That's where Magic Bug came in.

My imaginary friend came on long road trips with me. Back when my feet couldn't reach all the way, Magic Bug would help me make our cosmic soup on the floor of the car in the backseat. I remember the beams of light shining through the window when the sun was setting. It was always full of fairy dust, one of the key ingredients in our soup. One of the other main ingredients was rainwater, but we didn't get to make that soup during every car ride. However, when we did, the trick was to catch droplets of rain gathering on the window with your hand (reaching out and pretending, not actually touching the window) before the windshield wiper blades take them away and push them into oblivion. Sometimes they changed colors when we passed under traffic lights, red and green, and from the right angle you can even see the reflections of brake lights.

Mom and Dad are driving in the front and I'm watching the light make funny looking shapes around the interior of the car. I'm not alone. I have my friend Magic Bug and tonight we are making soup.

I also had a bike named Salad, but that's a different story.

Module 9

There is quite a bit that I should be doing right now. The house is dirty and we're going up north soon. The garage is dirty and my friends are coming over tonight. I have a lot of end of the term work to do at school, but it's fine. I just felt like writing. 

I'm onto something, I know that much is true. As I write this, I begin to wonder if that 'something' is a great adventure coming soon. I'm starting to see those opportunities arise, and once again I'm hearing that whisper in my ear that begs me to wander off to faraway places. It's familiar, catlike, temporary if you're not attentive.

Sometimes I find myself drifting into memories of the past. I was really hoping that wasn't something I would indulge myself in until I was much older, but I've had a lot of experiences just as anyone else has. They replay themselves to me sometimes, and it's tempting to miss those days. I don't though. Truly. I'm just starting to realize that I must see the world all over again through my son's eyes, and I don't want to miss a thing.

Where are we going next? Let's start up in the thumb of Michigan where we own a small property in a town called Port Hope. We love that place. Salem is going up to stay with Grandma and watch a parade of trucks Saturday morning, and we should be up there by evening or the next morning. That's a good start. Maybe we'll hit mid-Michigan followed by the north for a while and afterwards we can visit some friends on the way back to our hometown. Writing this out really brings the simplicity of my life these days to the surface, but I love it. I'm actually incredibly excited to spend some time on the road with my family and I even have a plan to take Salem up to Brad and Jolie's place alone next month. That's going to be a wonderful experience.

This is what I want, and it makes sense to me upon this new chapter of life. It's crazy to say, but it's better than wandering Madagascar or backpacking in the Middle East. I'm cosmically connected to a brand new adventurer and my own travels don't even appeal to me should he not be included. I love it. I'm so absolutely happy that it scares me sometimes. For now, I'm living a life of attendance and gratitude. I can only wonder if someday I'll be able to show Salem the worlds of our neighboring countries near and far. I'd sure love to.

Port Hope

I'm still staring at my computer and it's just about 3:30 on a Wednesday. I've been grading papers all day in the kitchen of our up north trailer while my son runs around acting like a dinosaur. Well, he's sleeping at the moment, but I'm still at it staring at this screen. Lately I've been thinking of trying to spend less time in front of screens.

My wife is beautiful. Look at her, across the table from me, looking out the window. I think she's brainstorming some new ideas for her candle and soap company. We were talking about investing in some land soon. That always comes up when we're out here in Port Hope. 

Maybe this is a 'life is good' post. Life is pretty stinking good. Yet, I buried my father's ashes a few hours ago under a memorial marker near our front porch, and I've been feeling quite surreal ever since. My mom is pretty torn apart and even she can't hide it. She tries though. She spends as much time with Salem as she can and I don't even know how we would have gotten through this without him.

One of my students just got his F-1 Visa to come study in the USA. I'm pretty excited for him. It's a massive sense of accomplishment for both of us.

I guess I can sit back and relax now. I'm working on that. Life is better when it feels like I'm narrating my own adventure, and it feels just like that right now. Yesterday I woke up at 5:25 in the morning to watch the sun from underwater. It was 47 degrees below the surface. The sun looked a very strange red without changing the color of any nearby clouds, they just stayed grey.

BUS 310 UANL

 

Afrobeat

Afrobeat inspires me to write. So does the wind that has taken control of my front door. I'm off to Mexico tomorrow morning on a very early flight, and I'm enjoying these much appreciated short trips out of the country. I'm equally appreciative of the people who helped me get this position at the university, and I'm really excited about future opportunities to work and travel.

Can you tell I just wrote an email to my boss? 

When I listen to afrobeat I'm reminded of college, specifically those days in the Trumbull house. When we first moved into that place we used to have epic drum circles just to embrace our newfound sense of freedom. You see, we used to get in trouble for that kind of thing at the Belcrest (Sid mostly). If you understood either of those places, then we are old friends and I love you. 

It feels like college but it also feels like that excitement before travel. In college I was working hard just to get through, I wasn't even sure I wanted to go to college in the first place, yet I finished with a degree in elementary education and English, and it was my ticket into the US Peace Corps. That's where this all began, this lust for wandering. Suddenly I feel quite rejuvenated just thinking about how much I like traveling the world. Maybe that's what is waking back up inside of me, something sure has. 

My Kitchen on a Monday

I really want to sit down with this post and put some thought into it. I'm in a very surreal mood, and even looking around my kitchen feels like I'm in a book or a game or something. It might be a strange moment to capture, but this is my moment and I like looking back on days like this. I'm in a weird state of pleasant uncertainty, maybe a form that I was once very accustomed to. 

I remember the days of traveling when I didn't know where I would end up or what I was getting myself into. I saw it as a goal, and my only ambition was to leave, never to actually get anywhere. Traveling has strange coincidences and idiosyncrasies around every corner. My life was once centered around traveling, and I used to hit these dark lows when I was unsure about future plans. 

There was a time that I was terrified to join the Peace Corps, not because I was afraid of being away from home, but because I thought it would never actually happen to me. I clearly remember listening to Fela Kuti in my room and feeling the struggle in his voice. I applied it to my life, although it seems so unbalanced to compare his and my experiences of life. I wanted to leave so bad, but I was failing math, and in a peculiar relationship with a very nice person. I wanted to be destructive of self (I eventually became self-destructive, which is something totally different). I wanted out.

So, this room feels surreal. As it turns out, I really like being domestic, and I'm even pausing in the middle of cleaning my house to write this. I'm happy, and I don't feel like being afraid of losing that happiness. Things have always come around for me, and perhaps with some patience I can be optimistic about this next chapter as well. Do I want to get out and travel the world again? That is still a question I can't answer at this time. I've experienced many lifetimes of travel, and for that I am eternally grateful. But, will I ever get out there again? I really don't know. 

No worries

When I was a kid, I was scared all the time. I hid it though, at least I think I did. I used to have dreams about the end of the world, or sometimes about losing my parents. School scared me, and I used to get picked on sometimes. Maybe it was the curse of being an only child, one of those blessings in disguise because it helped to form me into the person I am today. Yet, as a child I was definitely scared, and I wonder sometimes if my son is scared too.

He's getting big. He's only two and a half, but he's taller than some three year-olds, and that often confuses people. Salem is like a brand new little kid who is discovering the world through very young eyes. I love to see him explore and interact with his environment and even people around him. The other day he was pumped to get this new toy (I think it was an RV with a trailer, one that came with dinosaur bones and other archeologist things), and he was showing it to everybody in the store on the way out. I love when he does that. His voice is changing and he's developing a great way to communicate with people. God, I love that kid.

Am I still scared? I don't know.. I haven't asked myself that question in a long time. I'm happy and I'm scared to lose that happiness sometimes. I try not to live in fear, but it follows me around. Having a child makes you put your own thoughts on hold for a while, and it's only in those rare moments of laying on the floor in an empty and quiet house that you get to talk with yourself for a while. What am I doing? Am I doing a good job? I sure hope so. Maybe I am scared sometimes, but I'm working on it. Even as I write this, I begin to think of my doubts. I'm worried about my job, my health, my loved ones, etc., but here I am, keeping on keeping on. I think I'm doing a pretty good job.

Sunday Naps

Hey there, Salem

I just put you down for your nap. We read the typical dinosaur books today, but I mixed in a story about a puppy on Christmas and another nostalgic book I found. You weren't totally asleep after the dinos and puppies, so I flipped through the pages of one of those photo album books your grandfather put together. This one was called 'Salem 2022', and it really got to me today. You're growing up so fast, my guy, and somehow writing helps me to feel like I'm capturing a moment before it slips away from me. 

You fell asleep on my shoulder while we were whispering names of dinosaurs, and for a few minutes I dozed off too. In those beautiful moments I feel like we are far away in outer space, or deep in the jungle somewhere. It's just the two of us, and time stands still for a little while. 

I've always loved the passing of time. I'm not overly sad about thinking of you as a bigger version of you, because you are growing and changing every day. I can feel it in the way you talk, and I can see it in the way you play at the playground. You're generous with other children, and you are so sweet to the shy kids. It seems like you have the most beautiful personality. You make friends so easily.

Yet, here I am in this gorgeous moment, just holding you on the side of my arm while you dream of dinosaurs and monster trucks. The world is a big happy place for you with lots of curious things around every corner. You're starting to ask multiple questions about things. You remember everything, even the name of your street and your city. I can see you beginning to realize that this world is much larger than you once imagined. Believe me, it only gets bigger and bigger from here!

I just wanted to pop in and write a few words to catch this beautiful Sunday afternoon nap while I struggle to begin grading papers (or whatever it is I do, lol). Your mom and I are so proud of you, and we love being your mommy and daddy. I'm here for you, my little guy, and I will always be a part of you just as you are a part of me, and just as we are all a part of everything. Your soul and my soul are deeply and closely connected. It feels like I've known you my whole life, but only met you about three years ago when you were about to be born. Gosh, I remember the first time I saw you, and even more so the first time I saw your eyes. You have the most beautiful dark eyes. 

It seems I'm rambling again, and I'm not even sure you will ever find this. But, when you do, just know that your daddy was very happy when he wrote this. Thank you for being my son. When you were up in that cosmic void, floating around with all the others, you chose me. I'll forever be grateful for that.

Love you, my son

Dad

Dinosaurs and Cars (and also Monster Jam)

Hi Salem,

This morning I asked you what your favorite toys were, and you said dinosaurs, cars, and also Monster Jam. Sometimes when you are playing with your toys you make these really creative scenes with Lego blocks and upside down cars like the ones you see in your videos on YouTube. It reminds me of when I was a kid. I used to tape cartoons and pause them during action scenes just to draw everything I saw with colored pencils. Sometimes I would make little houses out of Legos and imagine I was a shop keeper or a resident of a surreal landscape. 

You've got the best smile. You love to laugh and you also love to make us laugh. I can see it coming a mile away when you have a creative idea in your head. You get this cute little grin before saying things like, 'teeth are like a house for your tongue'. You love to read stories with me at night, and sometimes we make up our own stories. I'll never forget the time I had you cracking up laughing over a misreading of Dinosaur Days when you were up until almost midnight laughing about how funny it was. It's like food for my soul, and it makes me miss you dearly when you're away at Grandma and Pop Pop's house. 

I don't want to say things like, 'you're growing up so fast', because time is just a beautiful passing through the pages of the book of life. I'm getting older, but trying as hard as I can to stay healthy so we can always play together. I get scared about my health sometimes and even have freak outs over blood pressure and cholesterol, but I try very hard to take care of myself. You see, before you were around I never knew how important I was. I didn't really care what happened to me, but now I have something worth living for. I feel like we hit the jackpot with you because you light up our lives every day and keep us smiling always. This world is yours now, and I feel this need to teach you all that I know so you can grow up well. Again, that scares me so much because I never really knew what I was doing and all of a sudden I have the greatest responsibility imaginable in my hands.

I'll keep you safe. I'll always have ears for you if you want to talk, and I'll always have time to play with you. I'd like to start traveling more with you just to show you how beautiful this country is. Maybe sometime we can leave to travel internationally because that has always been my specialty. I wandered around the world many times over, but I've never had an adventure like this one that I share with you now. It's like a new beginning to a new book and you give me every reason to wake up in the morning.

I love you, son. I really love the person you are becoming, and I'm deeply proud of you. I miss your grandfather so much too. It breaks my heart to see you go through this, but things are getting better. You used to tell me you're sad and you even tried to leave one day. I know it's hard for you, it's hard for all of us, but we need each other. Stay strong, my son. Things will get easier.

Puppet Show

Hey Salem,

I'm in the garage waiting for a storm to come that never really showed up. You're at Grandma's right now playing with trucks and dinosaurs and all that. I'm having a moment and also having trouble coming up with the right words to describe it. It's great to watch you learn things, and you're doing so well at everything you do. 

I haven't written much since before your grandfather passed away. Today is actually two months, and it's been a whirlwind of emotions. I'm pretty good right now, I'll start there, but it's greatly due to playing with you and running. It has awoken something inside of me that makes me feel really good. I'm alone with my thoughts during that sacred time every morning, earlier than the birds, and I just run or walk for an hour. I'm making really good improvements in my routine. 

When I run I think about you all the time. You're so young but already so far on your journey. You do the most creative things for someone your age. I have this picture I took of you putting on a puppet show, and you're in the middle of acting as different characters. It's indescribable how much I love you and am amazed by you. I think you're wonderful. It's really awesome to be your dad.

I know you're going to stumble on these posts someday, so it makes me happy to write this to you. We have a lot of travelling to do together. It's been a beautiful journey so far!

The rain just started. Spring is coming to life. 

Making Cookies in Salem's House

Hey Salem,

You know how sometimes we make cookies in your little blanket house before bed? You take eggs, milk, flour and chocolate chips from a locked pantry and fridge (my hand), and mix them all together. Then we put them in the oven and read books while they bake. Somehow there are always actual cookies there when you come back to check on them.. 

;)

Lasagna

Remember that time I ran into Brad at Kroger, right in the middle of buying things to make me a lasagna?

Epilogue

My father-in-law was right when he told me this would not be a new chapter but rather a sequel. I like that analogy much better, but it has me wondering when one book officially ends and when another begins. 

Tomorrow we are meeting with my father's two sisters to share old photographs and make some plans for the memorial service next weekend. I think that will be the end of this book and next will come a new beginning.

That scares the shit out of me for some reason, but I've always welcomed the future with open arms. 

Plastic Bag Stuck in a Tree

Hey there, plastic bag stuck in a tree. I noticed that you haven't gone anywhere in a while and you must be snagged pretty good. I'm sorry to say this, but I'm here to break your oath of silence while I break one of my own. You see, I'm finally alone, and I haven't really taken a minute to be alone in a while. 

I hope you're not cold up there. I'm cozy in a blanket on my new couch just enjoying this moment, but suddenly I realized that you've probably been watching me for some time now. I'm kind of a mess, but I'm slowly getting better. As my friend Gregg reminded me, recovery is a gradual process. Today I will just be low and start my climb up from here.

What am I supposed to do with these beautiful broken pieces? I'm told that when grief hits us we fall to pieces, but it's only when we fall to pieces that we can see how beautiful they are on their own. 

Insert: analogy of that form of Japanese pottery where broken pieces are put back together with gold.

It's you and me again, bag stuck in a tree. I think you're a Target bag. I've had hundreds of people write to me online and dozens call about my father, and currently I want nothing to do with them. I'd rather be here hanging out with you. 

I just want to be left alone and I feel terrible about it. When my father was passing, things got really rough upon his final days. It was a lot for my mother and I to deal with, but we handled it with grace and love. Now it's three days later (feels like a month) and I'm talking to a bag in a tree while curled up in blankets. 

I need some time, I guess, and I know deeply that I need something new to grab me by the soul. Maybe I'm looking for a book or something obvious, but maybe it's bigger than that. I just have to hold on and give my heart some time to heal.

 

Louis Ardagna

My father died this morning. 

Blue Stegosaurus

Where to begin? I'm sitting in the basement of my parents' house somewhere near the old entertainment center. I used to play video games here (the same ones I still play, but this is where I experienced them for the first time). Somehow it's my escape from all of this madness that is happening under this room.

My dad is dying. I don't know how to word that better. He's currently in a pre-active coma and cirrhosis has almost completely claimed his life. It's the most confusing thing ever, and it is unreal to even think about. I can't indulge myself by wondering what caused this because I am not sure we will ever find those answers.

My wife, my son and I moved back into this house about a week ago (feels like a year ago) to be with my mom and help take care of my ailing father. Mom and I are taking turns having a very hard time with this, but we are in strong agreement of how to take care of him. He's truly in good hands right now.

Salem gave Pop-pop a blue stegosaurus, and he hasn't let go of it since.

I can tell that mom has been downsizing in this house, but I guess I shrugged it off a bit. It's so empty in here compared to when I was younger. It's like she is getting ready to leave as soon as Dad passes, and I can't say I disagree with her about that. However, I'm sitting here in this dark corner of the basement remembering my childhood as if it were a movie I'll never be able to watch again. 

Somewhere inside of me there is a little boy version of myself that is very upset right now. It feels like I've been reading a really beautiful book, but peaked ahead to upcoming chapters and they were all blank, as if this is where my story with my father ends. That is such a painful feeling.

I'm frozen. I'm lost for words.

Hello, I'm a dinosaur

A few weeks ago we got a new couch and it came with huge cushions. Salem likes to play this game called 'mountain', and it's pretty self-explanatory. I love to watch him build forts and knock the walls down, but the coolest game we play is one called 'dinosaur eggs'. 

We pile Salem under a heap of couch cushions and every time he emerges as a different dinosaur. It's stinking adorable, and I'm writing about it in my old travel blog. I just wanted to take a moment to think about that fact.

I still talk to the roommates I had when I began my first blog. We're all on our own weird paths, but somehow I'm suddenly feeling this connection to those good old days. 

My dad is going though something rough, and it's been weighing on me heavily. Sometimes I feel like that little kid inside of me is hurting badly, and I'm selfishly worried that part of me is leaving. 

"Rarrrr, Hello! I'm a T-Rex! Rarrrr!"

Lately I've been wondering what this next chapter will bring. That's not true. Lately I've been trying to pay better attention to the path ahead of me, but I certainly don't want to ruin the surprise. I'm focused now, and part of that came from a recent decision to quit drinking. A good friend was really fired up about an upcoming trip to Boston and he was super pumped about how drunk everyone is going to get, but I'm in no mood at all to party. 

Minutes after hanging up the phone with him I quit drinking. That gave me an immediate boost, much like my decision to go vegan last year around my birthday. Now I'm on fire about something, and it's kept me much more centered. 

All day today I've been playing guitar and I have some brutal calluses forming from how much I've put into it these last few weeks. I think its pretty cliché to say, but music is very healing, and it has certainly helped me deal with the sadness I've been feeling. 

"Rarrr, Hello! I'm a Stegosaurus! Rarrr!" 

I feel much better now.

January 23

Hey Salem,

You're in the bath right now, giggling and talking to yourself about dinos. I love how chatty you are these days, and it's cool to have our first real conversations together. By the time you read this you'll probably think these things are silly, but in this special and sweet little time these little moments mean the world to me.

Daddy wasn't feeling too well this last few weeks because he was very worried about his own daddy. We are still in a time of uncertainty, and you are starting to ask questions about your grandfather that show deep and real concern. You know he's sick and you know he loves hugs.

You're getting big, my guy. You're a pretty tall dude, and I hope that works out well for you. You're kind and you don't freak out when other kids want to play with your toys. You asked for friends for Christmas last year, and it was the sweetest thing ever. I know you'll make lots of friends someday. 

Thanks for being so cool. You've been there for me so many times when I needed you. You were there for me when I broke my arm and you were there for me when grandpa got sick, and I'm here for you too. There are some scary things out there, and I'll be there for you no matter what. 

Thank you for the patience you teach me. Not patience with you but patience with myself. You make me realize how important the little things are, and how simple it can actually be to become part of life's truly beautiful flow. Because of you I feel connected to something ancient, something that is very natural, and maybe someday you'll feel that too. 

It sounds like you're almost done with your bath. I just wanted to say hi and tell you I love you very much.

Dad

Mozart

I'm learning Rondo alla Turca on guitar. It's rattling my brain in such a good way. Certainly I needed something like this, especially after looking back on that previous post. I get so nervous sometimes, and I know I'm good at keeping my nerves a secret. That doesn't mean I'm not feeling nervous. I feel fine now. Fine, but my brains are scrambled from Mozart.

Dad is getting a little better. I actually like watching after him more than I thought I would. A few days ago I shaved his face and it was a really special moment, probably for both of us. It has me thinking so much about this chain between my father and my son, and how I am somehow put in between two very strong forces in my life. I guess that's just life, being pulled and pushed from vastly different but equally important forces in our lives. 

Last Page

It's Sunday and it's also the last day of my break between semesters. During these last few weeks I've felt like I'm weeding a garden that has been unattended to for a bit too long. My dad's health has been my primary concern, and the fact that it takes me from my typical everyday concern about my son makes my head spin a bit. A few weeks ago I was sitting in a parking lot at an eye specialist to determine whether I had a serious eye condition (I don't, I'm fine), and I didn't even have a few moments to dwell on how scary that was. I was so caught up in work and life and everything else that I had lost track of things that should be obviously concerning. 

That scared me a little. So, I've been spending this time trying to form a new approach to the year 2023. I have a year's experience being a professor and nearly two and a half being a father. That means something great to me, and I think I often forget how scared I am to lose either of those roles. It's true. Being a father is terrifying. I think about death every single day. I'm afraid of the slightest irregularity in my body, but I have no other option besides continuing my journey through life as if calamity isn't lurking behind every corner. 

Okay, that was a bit much.

These are the last few paragraphs of the final chapter of 2022. Tomorrow I go back to work and try to navigate my way through daily life as if I wasn't feeling a heavy burden of existential anxiety. There I go again.  

I'm fine. When you put the pen in my hand these things start pouring out. I'm worried about my dad, and my son is growing up faster than they could have warned me about. I love them both so much, and I see myself as this chain between both of their worlds. I have some things I've never gotten over, and I think the time has come for me to carry on as if my armor wasn't so loose-fitting. Have you ever heard of imposter syndrome? 

They've got the wrong guy. I'm nobody. Wait a minute, no I'm not, I'm everybody. I'm everybody my son has ever known and everybody my father has ever made me. I have to be somebody, but I've never been sure if I'm anybody.

I really thought this would be a happy post, but I'm scared. There are so many things that I really wanted to have figured out before becoming a father, but I must not have been paying attention during that lecture. I should have taken better notes. But, you know what? I'm doing it anyway. Whoever I am, I am somebody who is stronger than the person they think they are. My son needs me, and I've never ever felt needed quite like I do now. 

Here's to chapter 2023. I've got a few scars now, but I've got this.