Out of My Comfort Zone

Well ... after thinking far too long and far too hard, I've finally taken the tentative first steps out of my comfort zone again. I have contacted the members of my dad's family to try to get together so we can write the 'story of their lives'.

When I put together Mom's family history last winter, no one really totally comprehended what I was trying to do. It gave me free rein to do anything ... from going all the way ... to cutting corners ... to quitting altogether. But I had a picture in my mind, a title for the book and I could visualize the end result. So I persevered.

This time is quite a different matter. Last fall, I mailed out a few copies of the book (that I had compiled, of my mom's family) to my dad's brothers so that I could put out some feelers to see if they would be interested in compiling their family's story.

The interest was there, but a lot of the family takes an extended winter vacation so we decided to wait until spring to get together and really start the process.

I had 6 long months to ponder the wisdom of this endeavor. 6 months to allow the negative self-talk seep into my consciousness. 6 months to fret and stew over the idea. 6 months to hear the thought "What was I thinking??" repeatedly come to mind.

I also had 6 months to think about what direction I would like this book to take. 6 months to think of who I wanted to 'speak' to, how I wanted people to feel when they read it and to try and come up with a new way to tell a very similar story as the one I put together for my mom's family.

The first time around, I dove right in without thinking too hard. I worked feverishly to get the book started and completed within a short time frame. It was if I may never restart the project, if I let it idle. I needed to prove to myself that I could accomplish that goal.

This second time around, I've had a lot of time to sink my teeth into what I really want to accomplish. I don't have a deadline looming, but I do expect a lot more out of myself now. I've set the bar higher for myself, and it's a little intimidating.

Dad isn't here to tell his story, nor is his older brother. At one point, I wanted to write this for them. But after a season of pondering the whole idea ... I want to speak to their families.

A person doesn't realize what a gift it is to be able to talk to a parent, as an adult child. To be able to sit down with your mother or father and hear them speak of life as they see it and tell you little things that you can pass along your own children. When you have that, you don't realize just how special it is. To lose a parent before you can hear them tell the story of their life and pass along the lessons they have learned along the way leaves a void in that part of your history.

I hope that this next book project of mine passes along those stories and lessons to the next generation. A sense of our family's history ... a feeling of who our grandparents, parents and relatives are ... and something that we can hold onto when our parents are no longer here, to tell it as it was.

I'm diving in head first now. It's a little uncomfortable at the moment ... but I can picture the finished product. I still need a title and a 'theme' for the cover but I'm sure that once I get comfortable with the whole idea, that will come.