Yesterday, the editor emailed the first proofs of A Different Dream for My Child for me to examine. That means the design and layout experts worked their magic on the manuscript, and it’s starting to look like a book. My job is to look for mistakes and make suggestions to improve upon the good work they have done.
Throughout the book-writing process, I’ve kept my emotions in check even though writing and publishing a book is a lot like giving birth. But when I read the introduction page, where our son’s birth is described, and I saw Allen’s name and birthdate on a real-looking page of what will be a real book, I began to cry. Too bad I can’t claim hormones caused my emotional outburst. That was such a convenient excuse during and after pregnancy. And I can’t say I was high on laser printer toner since it doesn’t work like mimeograph fluid did in the olden days.
When I saw his name on the page, the old memories came flooding back. My heart swelled with gratitude to see how God can our hardships, and those of the other families featured in the book, to minister to hurting kids and parents in the future.
Is it a coincidence that the first proofs arrived a few days before my son’s birthday? I don’t think so. For almost twenty-seven years, the third week in May has been pregnant with preparations for the celebration of his life. This week promises to be more of the same – gifts, a family meal, German chocolate birthday cake, and one more thing – first proofs to cry over when no one is looking my way.
