Unexpected Gifts

Sometimes the answer to our desires is, "Sure, you betcha."
Sometimes the answer is, "You gotta be kidding Me."

And sometimes . . . sometimes God chuckles, and says, "Just you wait, girl. Just you wait."

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I've always been quite the reader. Failing all else, I'll read the cereal box while I eat breakfast. And, like many readers, I used to fancy myself a writer. Heck, I even sold two stories. OK, so one of them never saw the light of day, but still -- somebody paid actual $$ for words I wrote.

But you know how it is, Life intervenes. Things happen, jobs take up a decidedly inconvenient amount of your time, new interests present themselves. And reading truly wonderful literature (Owen Parry, anyone?) can put a real damper on any illusions you may have about your own talent.

So, while I'm still an obsessive reader, I have faced reality: you'll never see my name on the shelves at Borders.

So, what, you may ask, is the "Just you wait" part?

My daughter is writing a novel. She sends it to me and some of her friends chapter by chapter.
And as an obsessive reader, I can tell you with no trace of bias, that it's good. It's very good. I've known that since I read her idea for the back cover.

But how good it is hit truly me full force this afternoon. I was reading the latest installment in the dentist's waiting room. And suddenly I was just blown away -- not that this particular moment in the story was different, or stronger, or more emotional. I was blown away by the totality of it, and by the realization that she is so very good at something I just toyed with. Brought tears to me eyes, boyos, it did, it did. This is what we all want for our children, right? That they have it better, and that they are better.

She is. You'll never see my name on the shelves at Borders. But you'll see hers.

You betcha.

Just you wait.