There was a time when I was called strange for what I poured my passions into. Hell, I’m not sure that time ever stopped. If things went differently, I might have left those passions in the past. The things I collect and the things I make, there was a chance they would never come to be. What I needed was someone who made me feel… normal. Like it was ok to pour my heart into loving something. That’s where the collector comes in.

I would visit his house and see his collections. Shelves upon shelves upon rooms of various baubles, models, stories, and artworks. Some were covered in dust, untouched for some time. Others were recently used or read, though finding a pattern in what one would be next would drive a man mad. To anyone passing by it was just arbitrary clutter, just junk. But not to him. And not to me.

I thought he was the quiet sort at first. Adjusting and keeping his items in as pristine a condition as he could manage. But then I asked him about them, and he was more than happy to tell me about where this figure came from or the contents of that novel. This was a person deeply ingrained in those passions, those stories he both watched and read. It only took someone to take interest in them to get him talking. I mirror him in that way.

I listened with deep intent every time. Did I retain it all? No, I can’t remember where he got those printed cards, or that model, though he told me time and time again. What I can remember is his face lighting up when he spoke of them. Of the shows he had seen when he was younger. It led me to watch those shows. Those collectibles were the catalyst that made me, I believe, understand him further than I could otherwise.

This man was a sailor. The kind who had sought out adventure. And when his adventures were coming to an end? He found them elsewhere. A distance farther than he could in his lifetime. But that didn’t matter. He lived them all the same through the actors on the screen and, in collecting what pieces of their history he could, continues to live them to this day every time he digs through his own collection.

Thank you, Grandad Mason. 

For your passions led me to believe that mine should be explored and not forgotten. Just like the seas. Just like the stars.