Monday, May 4, 2009

My Silent Hero

I am at the end of the book publishing process. I have been at this now for what seems like my life time. I have re-read passages so many times now I can recite them from memory. I find myself quoting myself. That is awkward and a little creepy. I am knee deep in the dotting of i's and crossing of t's and making sure I haven't rambled on until the message is lost. I haven't. My editor would have fixed that by now. But none the less I still have to scan each word and each line just to be sure it is the way it is supposed to be.

My little book project was never intended to be little at all. My book was supposed to reach as many people as it could, so if they were knee deep in their own stuff, they would have an example of all the good that can happen, if they just hold on. My book is all about being watchful for the miracles that grow from the composted pooh I have had to wade through. And I have had lots of little miracles. Even when it felt like I might fall completely to pieces, if I just stopped and took a breath, I could see something magical happen right before my eyes.

This is my first book, but not nearly my last. I am already outlining and word mapping and carving out my next several books. I am excited about each one. They are all so different, yet of the same family, much like my children. Writing has become the new occupational love of my life, often showing as much of it's bad or tedious side as the wonderful, joyful side. I am lucky not to be a tortured soul as I write. I did that gig when I was a nurse. I do scream at the computer form time to time and have to chase the dogs around to retrieve my favorite pen, but for the most part I am not suffering that much. In that is where I find my latest miracle. I have been so fortunate during this process to work with folks I really like. I have been able to sit down in the peace and quiet of the early morning and allow all my ideas to flow through my pen onto the blank page. I have reconnected and newly connected with some amazing people who willingly share knowledge and ideas.

The book lists at the end of each chapter that which I am grateful for in every situation, even the death of a beloved. I grew so much during the difficult times, allowing me the opportunity to see well beyond the nose on my face. It was hard, but I have very few regrets about my life. I look back at all I had to go through to be where I am now and I can see is how it was absolutely worth the trip. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't want to re-live it nor would I wish any of it on my worst enemy. But I see how with each step, I grew into my life and all the profound love and support and joy I have now.

I have to gush for a moment about the real hero in this book. Trust me when I say it's not me. Throughout the book and even well before it's creation there was a person who put all their faith into me and the words that were pouring out of my pen. He never wavered, not once, while I wrote and wrote and wrote. My husband, Michael, has been encouraging me since day one to do what I love. He put his and our money where his mouth is and not only took the leap with me, but nearly pushed me off the cliff to do it. In the nicest sense. This man, works long hours to support me while I am unpaid. He holds my hand when I get terrified that I have no talent and am a hack. He brings me tea when I am immersed in the work, too busy to get up and get my own beverage. Michael is the reason the book has come to life. Without him, the notebooks may have remained in storage for another decade. I thanked him in the book. It seems so small to me, the tiny words on the page, attempting to express what only my heart can truly know. And even then I feel as if that may be meager in expression.

As I read through the passages of the book, I see Michael in tiny threads throughout each story. I feel his love and support in the chapter's ending moment of grace. If not for my beloved Michael, I fear I may not have been brave enough to step out of what I was sure of and into a life bigger than I could have ever dreamt.

Michael is not one to take any credit for the book. He sits quietly by, picking up my slack around the house and making dinner, denying that any thanks are necessary. He tells me every day how proud he is of me. He tells me everyday how much he loves me and how lucky he is to have me. He is the truest example of real love that I know. My line to him is, "This family doesn't work without you." His line to me is, "I am just glad you think so." And I do think so. The fact is, Michael has stood by encouraging all of our dreams. The kids and me wouldn't be who we are, if not for him. His ability to love and nurture breathed new life into all of us. I have watched us create such a lovely life for each other. It just doesn't get much better than this, and when it does he is the first one to celebrate with me. I feel full, saturated with the love, comfort and belief my Michael darling shows me everyday. As I sit here now typing these words, know that the tears of joy and gratitude slowly drip down my nose onto the keys. I am acutely aware that this girl has got it good!

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