Before my eyes, I beheld a wondrous sight. A gift. A gift far beyond a Christmas present. In my hands I held my life, a dream come true, a reality of what I do. I didn't know I would feel this way. Do all writers feel this way? Maybe. But this was something more. This was the story of my parents, my childhood, a road in rural Ohio. I held a history of another time and the love of a child for the people and the place on Neff Road. My son and his wife had given me my first book. They may not realize that truly they have given me something more.Often I have thought of writing a book but was never sure there was a book in me. Yet here in front of me was proof that it could happen. My grandchildren were thrilled to see my blogs in book form. Grammy wrote a book.
"Can I read it?" asked Gabby.
I knew she wouldn't....not now, but some day this book will tell her about her grandma and the place she loved. She will learn about the people on Neff Road and about a farm. Sixty years of life residing in three hundred thirty-three pages. A history of another place and time.
I am humbled as I hold the book. A lump forms in my chest holding in my hands the memories I love. My mind spins. "This is me," I tell myself.
What will happen with this little book? I will work it a bit more and make copies for my family. Maybe I'll even go for a second edition. Maybe some day my great grandchildren will learn about a little girl on Neff Road.
I received a beautiful present. My family receives their history.
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