I Read a Book (I Read a Book!!)

I got a few new-to-me books for Christmas. Yes, I received the best kind of book there is to get. A book that has been read, enjoyed, studied, approved and passed along. A pre-approved book. Best gift ever!

I sat down with both books at my side yesterday morning, waiting for them to speak to me.

I had leafed through one as soon as I received it. Great book! Great ideas! Good motivation!! I'll wait until the New Year and then I'll take action, is what I thought. Why not start yesterday? It is a pick up and start anywhere kind of book. Why not now?

That book didn't speak to me yesterday.

So I picked up the second book. I read the forward. I read the back cover. I leafed through the first chapter. I read the last chapter.

I flipped and flopped my way through this book. But I had to try too hard. I really, really wanted to curl up with a book and lose myself and my thoughts in it.

That book didn't speak to me either.

I wandered into a most excellent reading room. Our abandoned upstairs bedrooms are having a hard time defining themselves. I loosely refer to them as "the spare room"; "the TV room"; and "Mom's room". As I directed my son towards what he was looking for the other day, he didn't understand my code. Our upstairs bedrooms are looking for an identity.

Yesterday, I further identified "the TV room" (the room with a TV; a folded out futon awaiting guests; Mom's love seat; a closet filled with tax papers, Mom's books and spare linens; and Mom's bedroom trunk - what would YOU call it?) as a very good place to read. I grabbed my coffee, a blanket and waited for one of the many books within the room to speak to me. And one did ...

"Life as We Knew It" - Dad's family's book of history, memories and stories almost jumped out of the bookshelf and into my hands. I have two copies. My copy and Mom's copy. I opened the cover and found my handwritten message to Mom:

"Mom, 'You' are my inspiration. Listening to you tell your stories my whole life has led to 'stories like this' ... Thank you for all of your suggestions. If it wasn't for you telling me to talk to friends and neighbors, this book would not be what it is. I think 'this' is good (at least good enough). ~ Colleen"

The idea was born the fall of 2008; seeds were planted throughout the following six years; by fall of 2014, "the book" was finally (finally!!) in the hands of Dad's family.

I spent hours days weeks reading, rereading, rewriting, editing, re editing and scouring those pages for errors before I sent the final, FINAL copy to the publishers and felt the book was ready enough to print. I held that book in my hands and I felt like I had accomplished something. My heart and soul went into those pages.

Suddenly I reheard my thoughts. My heart and soul went into those pages? This book was NOT about me. It was about Dad's family. Oh no! What had I done? I had put too much of myself into this project.

I tried to read it. I picked up the book after it was printed off for posterity. I found errors. I went through all 55 copies of the book to correct the errors I had found. I had to stop reading before I found any more mistakes. I corrected the main document and I have ordered 12 more books since that date.

Whenever I picked up the book, I could only read it as an editor. I have used it as a reference and gone to it to look up information. But I couldn't just read it.

Yesterday, I read it.

And it was good. It was just fine. Just the way it was. I read the book like any member of our family and I actually enjoyed it.

Of course I had the inside scoop within the stories that were told and I think the reason I actually did find myself inserting myself into the book, was to give the reader the feeling I felt as I collected and assembled the stories. I tried to put the reader in my shoes as I gave each chapter a quick overview so the reader wouldn't have to read every word to get the essence of the pages which followed. It was okay.

The pages which followed were stories right out of the mouths of the story tellers. I heard the voices of my uncles and had fond memories of the laughter and the visits we had as I collected these memories. As I read the words, I remembered more of the conversation and hoped it hadn't been omitted. It hadn't. I may have reordered some of those memories but they weren't forgotten.

I defined myself as "Collector and assembler of memories", which is a very apt description of the role I played putting these memories down in writing and recording them for generations to come.

As I scanned the photos inserted into our collection of memories, I couldn't help but stop a little longer at the more recent pictures. One picture in particular, taken in 2007, a 50th anniversary of one of Dad's brothers. Eleven years ago. Ten people in the photograph. Four have died. Three of those four contributed memories which were included in our book of family history.

"This" is why it is so important to follow through on an idea. "This" is why it is vital to write things down. "This" is why it is important to say what you want people to hear. "This" is why we must set things free when they are less than perfect. "Good enough" was the phrase I had to live and breathe as I let this project go.

These were the words I wrote as I sent this book off to press:

It is hard to say 'good-bye' to this project but its time has come. I must let go and set it free. I hope you can feel the pleasure I had putting this together as you read the words. If you can ... my work here is done. This is not "The End". It is simply "Good Enough"  ... (for now)

I reread those words as a reader (not a writer) and I believe "good enough" WAS enough.