Sometimes, I think my weeks are themed. Like sometimes the theme is ‘clumsy’ and other times the theme is ‘karma’. This week, it’s clearly all about a dream.
Not just mine–though, there is that too.
Yesterday a box arrived and as soon as I saw it there was a catch in my breath–an urgency to tear open the box and make it a real life moment instead of just another wistful what if. And yes, when that moment came to pass it was everything I imagined it would be.
I think back over the publishing process–the high highs and the low lows. Long before there was an agent and contracts and publishers there was just this quiet question: what’s my story? And though the words on those pages are printed in a language foreign to me, still they come together and tell the story of a girl’s life. Not a real girl, of course, but a girl who is pieces of me. She’ll come to life for Italian readers and just maybe she’ll pierce their hearts and stick with them.
It’s the best I can hope for.
Torri has dreams, too, and this week counts towards them.
Tomorrow I will board a plane with her. The only trouble is that my ticket is round-trip and hers is one-way. I know because I’ve been one that all the moms of little-ers read that and mourn the thought of a child moving so far from home. I know because I’m one now that the moms of young adults read that and smile a sad, knowing smile. We teach them to dream big dreams and then to chase those big dreams down, no holds barred. The hard part is watching them go about the business of it.
I’m avoiding the reality of what will happen when Tuesday comes and I go back to the airport alone. Those thoughts are too far away right now and I like it that way.
But there is this: Back when my big life was starting I flew from California to Tennessee with a preschooler by my side and an infant in my arms. The plane lifted into clouds that were gray and heavy with rain. Except for I don’t really know if it was a dreary day or if I only remember it that way because it was so impossible a thing for me to do. To take my babies and leave home.
No babies in her arms–just eyes open wide and a big, big world of maybes. Dreams, I think, are made of wistful what ifs. Walt Disney said, “All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.”
He’s right. The proof came delivered in a box just yesterday.