‘In-Transit: The Story of a Phone and a Dad’
As I sit here in this little work shop in Dularge—and as I wait for another job run, or to head home due to a slow day—I’m currently flooded with emotions. There’s happy, excited, sad, anxious; almost all these feelings are happening at once. It’s a weird thing to experience.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Depending on when I clock out of work today, I’ll be off until Monday. That’s something to be happy for. My relatives are down from Conroe, Texas, and I look forward to spending some time with them before this holiday is over.
But at this very moment, In-Transit carries so much weight. It’s weird that two completely different things are in progress, both are important to me, one is an addictive, First-World problem of mine—the other sits heavy on my heart, as I wait, helpless and still, watching his life ping pong around a prison sentence.
This first image is my iPhone 6 Plus. It’s 10 minutes away, at the Post Office. It’ll be here for lunch. I’ve been waiting months for this thing. With all the writing and creating I do, this phone is my yearly investment to everything I create. So you can imagine how excited and anxious I am to finally get it.
The second image, and what’s In-Transit right now is my dad. He’s been at Beaumont Medium, a prison in Texas, since January—and now he’s being transferred to California, a location we never expected he’d end up.
This is a moment to reflect on my life, the people around me, and the things that I consider important. It’s hard to understand the complicated dynamics that are happening here. My phone is In-Transit, and I’m excited, anxious, and happy. My dad is In-Transit, and I’m nervous, happy, anxious, sad, and so much more. There’s a feeling of selfishness: to be anticipating something so irrelevant to my dad’s situation. There’s thousands and thousands of things my dad would be anxious and excited for that would come before a damn iPhone. What is wrong with me?
No matter what makes you happy, no matter what you take for granted, let this Thanksgiving be the day you reflect on what’s really important in this world. Material possessions, and temporary pleasures, are so tiny compared to the bigger picture.
As you’re eating a great meal, look around you at the people that are enjoying their day with you. Look them in their eyes. Let them know that you see them. And for those who can’t be here with us, keep them in your heart. Their absence alone should be enough to make you appreciate the small things in life.
I’ll be dedicating this holiday to my dad and grandma: she lived a beautiful life, and I’m extremely thankful for every moment we shared together. And for my dad, he’ll be in thoughts as he transitions to California.