May 12: Santiago and the Fish, "My Friend Dahmer," Empowerment

Since I finished The Old Man and the Sea yesterday, I'm taking a break from Santiago and the fish for a night.

I'm sitting on my couch right now, after an evening of writing some comedy sketches for the show I'm in this weekend.  I also watched the movie My Friend Dahmer with my son.  (Not sure if that was a good parenting move, but we bonded over the backstory of one of the country's most notorious serial killers.) 

Speaking of bad parenting, my son did NOT go back to school today.  He asked to have another day off.  To study for some tests he missed while on suspension.  To prepare for returning to the foxhole of middle school.  And I agreed.

Here's my thinking:  he was told by the principal that he couldn't come back to school for five days.  Going back today would have been on the school's terms.  Tomorrow, he will choose to return.  On his terms.  Perhaps that's a load of crap.  But I know, if I were in his shoes, it would give me a little sense of empowerment.  And, after seeing how broken he looked in the school office last week, I don't mind giving him that.

Here endeth Saint Marty's parenting lesson for the evening.

May 11: Dreaming About the Lions, Sonya Sones, Tools for Hope

Santiago rests . . . 

Up the road, in his shack, the old man was sleeping again. He was still sleeping on his face and the boy was sitting by him watching him. The old man was dreaming about the lions.

That is the end.  Santiago caught the fish and lost the fish.  He fought sharks, and the sharks won.  Now, he's back in his own bed.  Sleeping.  Dreaming about lions.  The old man is safe and on his way to becoming legend in his village.

I am home after a long day.  I've been working and writing and planning for the past 13 hours.  The last thing I did at the library was host a virtual reading by poet/novelist Sonya Sones.  I booked her a couple months ago for National Mental Health Awareness Month.  Her book, Stop Pretending:  What Happened When My Big Sister Went Crazy, is a novel in verse about the experience of her 13-year-old self watching her older sister have a nervous breakdown and all the family trauma that results.

It's a book that I read many years ago, around the time that my wife was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.  Later, I shared the book with my young daughter, to help her sort out her feelings about her mother's illness.  It's a book that's profoundly heartbreaking and profoundly hopeful, as well.  It was one of my life's greatest thrills to be able to speak with Sonya tonight.  To ask her questions.  Tell her how much of an impact she has had on my life.

That is the end of my long day at sea.  Soon, I will put my head down on a pillow, close my eyes.  Maybe I'll dream about lions.  I doubt it.  But maybe.  More than likely, however, I will dream about my son, who heads back to school tomorrow morning.  I'll dream my worries for him.

Sonya Sones gave me hope in a dark time of my life.  

Over the past week, Saint Marty has tried to give his son the tools for hope, as well.

May 10: Eshark, Spirit Animal, Some Advice

Santiago is on his way to becoming legend . . . 

"Tiburon," the waiter said, "Eshark." He was meaning to explain what had happened.

"I didn't know sharks had such handsome, beautifully formed tails."

"I didn't either," her male companion said.

A day in the office.  Literally all day.  I arrived around 8 a.m. and didn't leave until about 8:30 p.m.  One of my best friends gave a felting workshop this evening at the library, and my son came to participate.  This friend is my son's spirit animal.  They are so much alike.  And one of her careers was helping at-risk youths.

Before the program started, my friend spoke with my son.  Gave him some advice.  Practical ways to avoid getting in trouble.  Told him that she'd be checking up on him.  He had a really good evening.

Saint Marty's koan for tonight:  beauty is in the eye of the shark beholder. 

May 9: Backbone of the Great Fish, Crazy Day of Wind, Morel Hunting

A tourist sees the remains of Santiago's fish . . .

"What's that?" she asked a waiter and pointed to the long backbone of the great fish that was now just garbage waiting to go out with the tide.

A crazy day of wind in my little corner of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  The wind was so strong, it knocked out the power of the library where I work.  We had to shut the building down.  I moved a morel hunting program I had scheduled for the evening to the local children's museum.  Surprisingly, 25 people still showed up.

Saint Marty's koan for the night:  even garbage has a good story.