Brendan Quealy: Wondering where to go from here

Brendan Quealy, The Record-Eagle, Traverse City, Mich.
·3 min read

Aug. 27—Tuesday, Aug. 29, will mark seven full years at the Record-Eagle. And I'll be honest when I say that I'm not sure I ever thought I'd stay that long.

Not for any reason that has to do with the residents and tourists that inhabit northern Michigan. I'm just fairly nomadic by nature. I tend to wander and explore, preferring going off trail to following the safe and beaten path.

I've no doubt looked for my next adventure of these last few years. I applied to graduate school in pursuit of my Ph.D. I've sought out jobs in academia to get back to teaching. I've toyed with the idea of just quitting and focusing on writing the bevy of books that are rolling around in my head and remain half-started on my laptop.

But here I stay.

For how much longer? I couldn't tell you.

I do know that the memories I've created and the friendships I've built here are safely secured in the "lifetime" category. No matter where I walk or where I drive, there is always something that sends me back and washes me in nostalgia. For that, I'm eternally grateful.

Be it strolling through the Civic Center and remembering when a bunch of young kids referred to my dog Luna as Sirius Black from Harry Potter (always brings a smile to my face) or swimming in the waters at Maple Bay Natural Area and skipping stones as the sun set in front of me.

Playing whiffle ball at the Open Space. Hiking Sleeping Bear Dunes in the hopes of seeing the Northern Lights or watching the full moon rise.

Nights walking out of Doublewide or Kilkenny's after 2 a.m., knowing full well I will regret it in the morning. Grabbing a Gobbler at Mary's Kitchen Port, a hot ham and cheese from The Chef's In or a dozen chocolate donuts from Potters — knowing full well I'll regret that, too.

I guess I just find myself looking back as my life moves forward. Remembering where I came from, recognizing where I'm at now, and wondering where I'll be two, five or 10 years down the road.

I hope I'm better than I am now. That I know for certain.

Healthier, both physically and mentally. More financially secure. Happier with what I do on a day-in, day-out basis. Kinder. Stronger. More loving. More forgiving. Less weighed down by worry and anxiety.

That's probably a lot to ask, isn't it? Especially considering not just the curveballs life likes to throw at us, but the high-and-tight fastballs that buzz our chin or bury themselves in our ribs and knock the wind straight out of us.

But, every now and then, we catch the ball on the sweet part of the bat. Be it a home run or a soft, seeing-eye single up the middle, well at least we're on base still playing the game. Our teammates might be different. Maybe we've lost a few and gained some others. The ballpark might be different, too. New, but still familiar.

Seven years might not seem like a long time, but a lot sure has happened in my life since I left Rantoul, Illinois, and made my way 406 miles north. Heck, even going back to check on my old work from the Rantoul Press just brings me to a webpage that now reads "404 Not Found." Nearly three years of my life reduced to a number and two words.

Life changes. Life ends. Life goes on.