✅ Morning Weigh-In + Record (Weight Journey / Identity Momentum) : (Starting weight is 361.9 lbs. – today’s weight of 304.0 lbs. = 57.9 lbs. total weight loss, and this includes 36.6 lbs. since the introduction of the AI Diet!)
Today started in a strange but meaningful way — with a dream about my old church friend Dennis that I haven’t seen in over thirty years. In the dream, we were back at my mother’s house, like it was decades ago, and the whole experience left me reflecting on how connections I once thought would last forever have faded into memory. I woke with a bittersweet awareness that so much of life is fleeting. People come and go, seasons pass, and even the bonds that feel unshakable in youth can dissolve with time. It reminded me that in the end, we have to live for our own truth and happiness, not for the judgments or expectations of others.
The morning in real life began with chores at Kristina’s place. I installed a new toilet seat in her bathroom and set the old one aside near the dryer just in case she needed it again. I also ran her quilt through the dryer a few times until it was nice, warm, and toasty. There was something satisfying about leaving things better than I found them, almost like tying up loose ends before heading home.
By 10:30, I found myself at Café Fantastico down the street. I treated myself to an Americano with cream — a small indulgence since I was leaving that day — and a toasted bagel with cream cheese. On a whim, I decided to try something new: a French pastry called a dacquoise (see photo to the right). I’d never had one before, and there was something symbolic about that too — trying something new, savoring the unfamiliar, letting life surprise me.
Later in the day, after finishing up at Kristina’s apartment, the kids and I headed over to the Victoria Flying Club to drop off her key with her son. An amusing little moment unfolded at the counter. I told the clerk that I wanted to leave the key with him for Kristina’s son. We had a short dialogue back and forth, with me asking for his name and confirming things. When I turned to leave, the clerk suddenly called out, “This is for you,” and there he was — standing just twenty feet away the entire time. It struck me as funny that instead of pointing him out from the beginning, we’d gone through the whole exchange as if he weren’t right there. Kristina’s son came out, greeted us, and chatted briefly with my kids. We didn’t stay long, though — I wanted to get on the road and make good time so we’d be back in Courtenay before nightfall.
We stopped at McDonald’s for dinner — simple fare, hamburgers and fries — and before long my son had dozed off in the back seat. That gave me the chance to have a meaningful front-seat conversation with my daughter. She’s full of energy and ideas right now, especially after seeing a video about a young entrepreneur who made a business out of selling bath balms. Inspired, she’s talking about starting her own little venture making and selling hand-drawn stickers, maybe even setting up a booth at the Farmers Market with her friends. Listening to her dream out loud was inspiring for me, because I could see myself in her — that spark of wanting to create something new, to put your mark on the world. I encouraged her, telling her she should absolutely pursue it. It felt like one of those father-daughter moments that I’ll remember.
A little further up the island, we pulled into the Tim Hortons at Oyster Bay for coffee and snacks. I grabbed a large double-double, my daughter treated herself to a chocolate dip donut, and we picked up a box of Timbits to share. At first, it was just her and I dipping into them while her brother continued to sleep in the back seat, but eventually, when he woke up, the three of us shared them together. Somewhere along that stretch of road, I started telling my daughter about some of the songs that have meant a lot to me over the years. She played them on her iPhone — “Joey” by Concrete Blonde, “Alone” by Heart, “San Francisco” by Scott McKenzie, “Help Yourself” by Tom Jones, and a few others. Hearing those old songs again in the car, with her listening and reacting, felt like I was passing down a piece of my own story — a soundtrack of memories woven into her present.
Meanwhile, their mother was eagerly waiting for us back home. This had been the longest stretch the kids had ever been away from her — about ten days since they were born. She tracked our trip on her iPhone and noticed when I turned off at Royston, near their violin and viola teacher’s place, to take the scenic route instead of the main highway. She texted, wondering why it was taking us longer, but I was just tired of the highway and wanted a quieter way back. In any case, we pulled into home just before sunset.
The kids were hungry by then, so their mom quickly made them a meal. My son, having slept for much of the drive, got to stay up later than usual, while my daughter happily settled back into the comfort of home. For me, the best part of the evening was something simple: crawling back into my own bed. After more than a week on Christina’s sofa, the flatness of my mattress and the familiarity of my own room felt like pure luxury.
Looking back on the day, I see it as a journey of contrasts — dreams of the past, frustrations of the present, moments of laughter and music with my kids, and the comfort of finally coming home. It wasn’t just about getting from Victoria to Courtenay; it was about the conversations along the way, the memories stirred up, and the small rituals that give life meaning.
