Over the past weeks, I haven't really said much and planned it that way. Why? I don't know. I just wanted to be a shadow on the wall. 

I may have a big mouth and sometimes it may speak too much for me - for what's really been going on. Does this affect my job? Personally, yes. The more I exist in this world, the more I understand  that silence is truly golden. I am too flashy for my own good. I don't have any solid ground to stand - not as a detective, but truly as a man. 

When I was a child, my dream was to be one of the world's greatest detectives and capture Carmen Sandiego. I did whatever research I could when I was a child and found her the most amazing woman in the world. My young, naive mind was like "If girls are like this, I definitely want one." while the other side of the coin spung a different tale. It said - "VILE needs to be stopped. They're taking too many precious items that the world loves. If Carmen's the key to making it stop, then that is my goal. I MUST capture Carmen Sandiego."

The day I told my parents this my father leaped for joy as my mother I remember my mother saying (but it was more like hysterical mumbling) was "My baby's gonna die trying to get some crazy white woman!" After that, it was just her balling her eyes out screaming and mumbling about how detective work is dangerous and "God knows what that Carmen woman would do if you go too deep. She'll probably send someone to kill you then I have to plan your funeral and....and...." then another ten minute session of tears. My father finally got my mother to lie down in their bed as he talked to me about the family history.

At the start, he had to mentioned Sherlock - my great grandfather and his wife, Thila, an African indentured servant for a local tea shop and bakery he met during off time between his cases, but really didn't become a couple until his retirement. This relationship has been kept out of the history books for years because there was nothing exciting about it. The only big deal was they had children after Sherlock have moved to the country to take up bee farming. Even though bee farming kept bread on the table back then, Sherlock made sure that all four of his children would learn the family trade of deduction. None of those children would go on and become detectives or private eyes, but as my father put it, "When ever there was something a little bit outside, we would always pull it in from the shadows." That means we would just quietly assist those who needed a break in their case.

This is where my weeks of reflection comes in. Every case is important to me because every case is important to someone else. Sherlock did his cases not only for the love, but the excitement. The world knows what he did after every case. He would head back to Baker Street, clean himself up, put on his finest clothes for relaxation, light his pipe, sit down, and ponder about his case. I can't do that. As soon as I finish one case, I have to grab the other. This is the only thing that separates us - relaxation vs adrenaline. I am going to take a page ouf Sherlock's book and relax - let everything play out in-front of me and just think about it.