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.