This morning, I was feeling sorry for myself, stuck in Iowa for the entire winter, slogging through the rewrites of my new book, day dreaming about February of 2009 when Hiram, my sister, and I went to sunny southern California for a long weekend visit with an elderly relative. This post from February 27 of that year shows that the trip was not the completely idyllic interlude of my recollection. It also reminds me of the parents who found comfort in my first book, A Different Dream for My Child, and who want to read the second one, Different Dream Parenting.
It’s also the perfect segue into a reminder for readers. The Readers’ Choice Awards contest is still on, and A Different Dream for My Child is one of five finalists, presently in third place. The hot and heavy voting continues, and you can vote once a day, every day, through March 8 at about.com. Thanks!
Waiting for the Ocean View
Okay, go ahead and laugh. We’re not in California and won’t get there until this evening since our morning flight to Minneapolis was delayed (mandatory rest for crew) so we missed our connecting flight. Our new flight doesn’t leave until later this afternoon, so Hiram and I are enjoying a day in the Omaha airport. Guess we can check that one off our Bucket Lists.
My sister, who drove to the Minneapolis airport through the snow, made her connection just fine. And to think that last night we were congratulating ourselves for picking the cheaper Omaha flight and missing the Minnesota snowstorm we would have driven through to fly out with her. She’s a really good sister. She didn’t even say “I told you so.”
But to wet my ocean whistle, I found this photo I took a few years ago. My friend, Helen, and I had a great afternoon, walking on the Atlantic beach and wading through the warm August ocean. After visiting Helen for a few days, I went to a writers’ conference near Boston. At that conference I hatched the idea for A Different Dream for My Child with the woman who advocated for my book and Discovery House Publishers and is now my editor.
This morning, we chatted with our linemates as we inched toward the ticket counter. We talked about our jobs and my book came up. One man asked how he could buy the book. He and his wife have one child, a five-year-old son with severe autism. I directed him to my website and gave him my business card, wishing the book was already published. Suddenly, the line moved. He went one way, we went another.
Afterwards I realized I didn’t know his name. But his son’s a beautiful, brown-eyed boy named Conner. And Conner’s dad said what every parent who needs the book says when they hear its title. “That’s exactly what it is,” he said. “A Different Dream, not a bad one.”
His attitude put one less day at the beach in perspective. It’s a different dream, not a bad one.