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Journal

It’s been months since I’ve taken this journal out to write down my feelings and inner thoughts.

Probably because as of late, there had been so few happy times.

After having the baby, Sarah continued to spiral emotionally.

Her fits of anger and explosive emotions had grown even more unpredictable and concerning.

I can’t believe it’s been a month now since Sarah left with our son, Finn.

We had an argument, but nothing out of the ordinary.

I’d been out fishing with Brock and when I got home, she was in a rage.

It seemed like no matter what I did these days, she was upset with me.

I begged her to stay, but the more I pleaded the deeper her disgust with me became—or at least that’s how it seemed.

I tried talking to Brock about it. After all, he’s my best friend.

We’d grown up together since we were no more than knee-high to a grasshopper.

I thought he would have had some words of wisdom for me, after his own divorce last year.

His seemed to come out of nowhere as well.

However, he didn’t have much to say about Sarah leaving, simply shrugged his shoulders and said he was sorry.

I’ve been sitting in this huge empty log home ever since, wondering where it all went wrong.

Despite the little voice inside my head telling me to leave it well enough alone, I called Sarah’s mother to make sure she’d made it to Maine with Finn. It’s a long trip for a woman and child, all on their own. Her mother simply acknowledged they’d arrived safely and hung up the phone.

“I want a divorce,” Sarah had said as she walked out the door that last time.

Finn was wrapped in a blanket my mother had knitted him.

His eyes were watery from crying and his nose was running.

He had to know his life was about to change, but at such a young age, I’m sure he wouldn’t even remember what it was like beforehand.

No matter how much I begged for an answer as to why she felt compelled to leave, she never gave me anything but a cold stare.

Her eyes told me I should know, but I had no idea what she meant.

Anyway, there’s a big day coming up soon.

The grand opening of The Wildwood Bed & Breakfast. We already have guests booked solid for this entire month and everything is happening so fast. This was supposed to be our big day, Sarah and me.

We’d worked hard to get this place in shape, with Brock’s help of course.

It isn’t going to feel the same without her here.

I’d better get my ass out of this bed and start working or this endeavor will fail before it even starts.

I keep telling myself that one day I will make this business a success and be able to leave it to my only child, my son, Finn.

There’s a little piece inside me that worries his mother will taint his memories of me, if he even has some.

Who knows, maybe one day he will come to me on my deathbed, and he can read my journal.

He will know how much he meant to me. How hard I worked on this business, not only for me, but for him. That settles it.

Finn, if you’re reading this, I hope you will learn about me from my perspective and give me a chance to regale you with the stories I have not been able to share with anyone else.

Even if they are just my personal thoughts and opinions on something, I hope you will get to know me a little bit more with each page.

I put the journal down and looked at the wall of my room.

Getting to know my father this way was something I hadn’t expected to do, but it tugged at my heart.

My eyes felt heavy, but I wanted to keep reading.

Maybe just one more passage before I go to sleep.

Maybe, I’ll get to visit my dad in my dreams.

September 2 nd , 2000

The Wildwood B&B has been open for nearly a month now.

I never realized just how hard it would be to do this without you, Sarah.

We’ve been so busy, I had to hire a chef, housekeeper, and my best friend Brock as a groundskeeper and general manager of the place.

I don’t know what I would have done without him.

He even quit his job at the logging company to come help me out full time.

There’s so much to do around here, I can barely keep it all straight.

Will probably have to hire more help at least during the busy season.

Something tells me that once the weather starts to turn frigid cold, we will slow down.

If that happens, we will do our best to keep the essential staff and make sure the rest know they are seasonal.

I called Sarah again last Friday. She didn’t spend much time talking to me on the phone, but she put Finn on, and I was able to tell him his father loves him.

He’s still too young to understand the situation between his mom and dad, but hopefully he will learn my voice and look forward to my calls—one of these days.

There was an interesting development that happened recently.

A company out of Washington state offered to purchase the bed and breakfast. Not only that, they wanted the land it sat on—all of it.

I can remember when my father first told me the story about this land and how his grandfather and his father had prospected here.

Gold had been the reason so many from the continental United States ventured up to the great white north.

The gold that had been discovered here on the property went to purchasing the land which has been in the family ever since.

It’s a legacy I can’t bear to part with and hoped to pass on to my son.

Part of me is writing these letters to show him just how much the land means to me and our family’s legacy.

But enough about that for today. Brock and I will be going fishing to catch some dinner for our guests.

We have a menu option everyday called, The Fresh Daily Special.

We plan to catch fish, hunt game, or grow something ourselves that will be enjoyed by the guests.

So far, it’s been a real hit, especially the fresh fish.

I have a feeling during salmon season, we will be out there every single day to bring back wild Sockeye.

Brock and I have been talking about it a lot lately and getting pretty excited. We have great plans for this place.

One last thing before I end this journal entry.

I was told by someone special in my life that if I want something to happen, I need to start putting it out into the universe so it can happen.

I’ve never believed in any of that hocus pocus, but this is too important not to try and manifest it into reality.

My goal is to send for my son, Finnegan James Wildwood.

I want to show his mother that I have my life together and I am fully capable of taking care of my son.

If she does not want to be a part of it, she can stay in Maine, but shared custody is my goal.

What more would a boy want than to summer in Alaska where adventure awaits around every corner?