I have read and reread the comments and emails you have sent me. Thank you for your good advice, helpful services offered and for telling me to put it down and then think about publication.
Thank you for encouraging me to do something I never thought I would do. Never. But after being asked a few times over the last four years, I decided to give it a try. If only to be able to pass something on to my children. To be able to hold this moment, this community of faithful readers, and to let French Husband have his way. He has encouraged me since day one to put it in a book… he is afraid it might vanish in the air or something.
The dream started when I opened my window and heard the rain pinging on the tin roof under the night sky. The dream followed me back to bed, were I wrapped myself around French Husband's warm body.
Last night I couldn't sleep. I heard the church bells ring three, then four… I leaned into French Husband's ear, "Are you sleeping?"
"No."
"How long have you been awake?"
"Since I came to bed?"
"Oh my that long! What are you thinking about?"
(Never ask a man what he is thinking about at four in the morning.)
"Sleeping and you?"
"And me?"
"Yes you. What are you thinking about?"
"The book idea."
"Oh, just do it."
Then I rattled on and on in a low whisper about why I was thinking to do a book. (French Husband offered those little sounds that one does when one is listening and doesn't want to interrupt, but wants the other person to know that they are listening.) I shared my hopes for a book, my concerns, what many of you said and how many of you offered to help and I told him I couldn't sleep thinking about it all….
Then I heard him snoring.
He had fallen asleep. And that made me feel safe and warm and loved… silly but so true. He had relaxed, or whatever, and that was good enough for me. I fell asleep too.
Twenty two years later we can sleep for sleep sake and dream about tomorrow together.
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