A Letter to You When You Turned Thirty-Two

52 Weeks of Freedom - Week 22

My 32nd Birthday - May 31, 2023 - Tarryall Reservoir, Colorado

Today is my last day at thirty-three.

As I reflect back on this past year and how diametrically opposed year thirty-two and thirty-three were, I thought I’d write year thirty-two a letter of encouragement of what was ahead of him…

Mac,

I know the past few months have been hell man.

Settling the divorce in March, what a painful and confusing time it was for us.

A deep fissure in our reality, in our identity.

The unknown void of an uncertain future.

I remember us fearing to gaze too long into the horizon because it felt like we were in quicksand, doubt’s creeping weight sinking in.

The draining pain of a recent death.

The relationship that was a third of our life, now fading into the ripples of memory.

Long nights of howling tears of regret and remorse, suffocating on the salty streams of a dear loss of a lover, a friend, a great human being.

Unsure of where to go or what to do.

Hope an unfamiliar neighbor knocking on our door with a friendly but impatient rhythm.

I know man.

I know.

It’s been hard, but there’s a whole world out there that we are about to explore with two pups that love the heck out of us.

You’re going to answer the door and we are going to let him in.

He tells us that it is time.

Time to hit the road, to embark on a life we’ve always dreamed of.

Freedom.

Adventure.

Connection.

Spontaneity.

Family.

Friends.

Fishing.

Stories.

From Colorado to the Florida Keys and back.

Something you began to conjure in May of 2023, that came to life over the summer.

We did it man.

We saw many old friends and made many new ones.

Waving goodbye to Mom and Dad who gave us a place to stay when we were down and out, a roof of love keeping us alive during the storm.

Reuniting with “The Admiral” (grandparent of one of our best buds and someone who we love incredibly) in Hastings, Nebraska - regaling old fishing stories, the day we found a weathered staff of driftwood and receiving the moniker of “Moses", and the importance of a life well-lived - while sipping beers we traded (we did try that bacon beer, and yes it got a little warm).

Hauling in giant catfish at the childhood watering hole of the grandfather we never met (the blurry photo below is the one that got away - biggest catfish of our life - let’s take our time the next go-around), saving Viggo from near assassination attempt by the venomous Water Moccasin, reflecting on the life of an ancestor while at the local cemetery, and smoking cigars with John Denver look-a-like and campground manager John Watermeier - who to our later shock may be a distant relative, and seeing my Grandmother’s childhood home on the way out in Carlinville and Mount Olive, Illinois.

Surviving a hillbilly burning man 4th of July multi-day celebration in Ross, Ohio - catching up with cousins Bridgette and Nicole along with Nicole’s parents Paul and Pam, “muddin” with Paul and Pam’s neighbor Kris, ziplining across a catfish pond, dressing up in ridiculous outfits each night to fit the theme, soaring through the air like Iron Man on a fly board, 3 am dives into the chilly water, and hanging with a dude named Whopper, and catching countless bass/bluegill - what a crazy, wild, and unforgettable start of this new chapter of life! It was good for us to let loose and have some fun.

They know how to have fun in Ohio

Special shout-out to Kris who has been going through some brutal health issues for more than a year. Kris really helped me out when we were with each other. I remember at one point, I kept changing outfits and hats - likely because I was still processing and rediscovering who this new Mac was - “just be you man” I remember him saying earnestly and it helped me let loose and enjoy this new and fresh experience.

Watching the wicked knockouts and gladiator battles of the UFC with local fans in Macon, Georgia and then traveling north to a friendly Cracker Barrel out of town.

Adventuring through the wild state of Florida for a month - reuniting with cousin Sam after 8 years and baptizing the dogs in the salty tide of the Pacific as a new rite of the rag tag team of explorers, gliding across the clear waters of the Florida Keys with my best friends - fighting barracuda, shark, and tarpon - topping off our nights with Arena (1989), Rollerball (1975), The Phantom (1996) - and a 3 vs 1 food fight, and snorkeling in Ichetucknee’s fresh water pools - hoping we were the only creature in the water with sharp canines.

An epic battle with a giant nurse shark using a broken reel

One of the top man to man moments of my life - pure elation after the big catch!

Pulling in blue crab off the dock with the help of some Long Island frequent vacationers and enjoying watching the dogs play at a fantastic dog park at James Island in Charleston, South Carolina (occasionally seeing alligator in the same lake the dogs swam in).

Performing and winning Zoolander-esque dance-offs in a packed Asheville wine bar, exploring lush forests to find a heavenly fishing hole, walking the storied grounds of Chapel Hill - where Air Jordan reigned supreme, and an all-nighter to remember with laughter with my little brother’s best friend - our first adventure together.

Reconnecting out with a long-lost childhood friend as if no time was lost - staying for a couple of nights with his wife and newborn son, riding a mechanical bull twice in a Nashville honky-tonk - lasting long enough for a good laugh with my newfound biker friends from Minnesota, and singing my heart out to Creed arms locked with gruff and proud Detroiters on the third floor of Tootsies before it closed out.

Returning to Colorado, back to home.

Long roads of open prairie as we headed back to the Western frontier.

This new chapter filled with the vibrant ink and inspired drawings of a new life of purpose.

As we traveled from state to state, we wrote and we spoke about our life to others.

We began to stoke that pure fire of meaning as our vocabulary was set loose upon the world.

Excitement pulsed through our numbed veins again as the vision of Porn Free Millennial became realized in reality.

Our guiding light through the dark times, our daily passion project that yelled in rebellion against our past fate.

The battle cry of not staying down amidst the piercing storm of arrows tipped with shards of shattered pride.

The scream of defiance against the waves of depression that crashed our foundations in this uncharted water.

We did not allow the bastards a victory.

We did not let them win.

We fought them back.

Those past versions of immaturity, of anger, of addiction, of selfish craven deceit, of blame, of shame, of numbing nihilism, of throbbing temptations, of delusional decadence, of faithless cowardice, of hopeless pity.

We stood up to them and called them to move out of our way, we had somewhere to go - somewhere to be, someone to become.

As we settled back into Colorado, there was a sense of gratitude and also a pause.

Where will I go now?

What will I do now?

The adventure of a lifetime now completed, now what will life bring?

As the summer turned into the fall and fall turned into winter, we began to sink back into the quicksand again.