It’s been a month since The Gift of an Ordinary Day was published. \u00a0No bestseller lists, no rave reviews in the New York Times, no calls from Oprah. \u00a0There are still a lot of books stacked up on bookstore tables across the land. \u00a0And yet, to my mind anyway, the book already feels like a success, thanks to all the readers who have discovered it, read it, and then taken the time to write to me and say, “I’m glad you wrote this book, and I’m glad I found it.”<\/p>\n
Sitting on the couch in my kitchen all those months ago, typing away, it was easy to pretend that no one would ever actually read what I was writing. With that mindset, I could confess my doubts and fears about growing older, admit that I once hid my seventh grader’s clothes, wrestle with my emotions as the day approached for my older son to leave home, make lists of the mundane things I’m grateful for. \u00a0Often, at the end of the day, I would wonder if I was just wasting my time, trying to put words to all these private thoughts and feelings. \u00a0When the book finally came out, and I headed out into the world, to visit bookstores and do interviews, I sort of felt as if I were running around in my pajamas–not totally naked, but oddly exposed and vulnerable.<\/p>\n
Then the first letter arrived in my inbox, from a woman in California, just my age.\u00a0“You and I are kindred spirits and I am sure we would be fast friends if we were to meet,” she wrote. \u00a0“After spending an emotional afternoon yesterday finalizing the college list with my senior son and husband, who is quite opinionated about what he is willing to pay for, I had the good fortune to spend a half an hour wandering around a book store. \u00a0Finding “The Gift of an Ordinary Day” was like finding a vintage Valentino gown in a thrift shop. \u00a0I couldn’t wait to get home and read the chapter on ‘Applying.'”<\/p>\n
Tracy went on to tell me a bit about her \u00a0family, and how my words had seemed to validate some of the things she already felt to be true. \u00a0That relationships matter, for example. \u00a0That it is ok to be still. \u00a0That sometimes just taking a long deep breath is more important than accomplishing something on a list. At the end of her long e-mail, Tracy wrote, “I think we feel the same way about life.” \u00a0I had to agree.<\/p>\n
Last night, my dear new friend who I’ve never met held a gathering for a group of friends at her house outside of Los Angeles. \u00a0They were meeting to discuss The Gift of an Ordinary Day with one another, and to to put together care packages for their kids in college. \u00a0Since Tracy’s daughter is in Cairo for the semester (and, as she learned the hard way, shipping to Cairo costs a fortune), she had offered to put together a package for my son Henry, who is in Minnesota. \u00a0“Hope he will like a bunch of kooky stuff from California,” she wrote the other day.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, Tracy is sending copies of my book to her friends from all over. . .and the conversation among us mothers across the country is expanding by the day. \u00a0Yesterday, I opened my e-mail to find a note from yet another kindred spirit. \u00a0The words touched my heart: “While reading your book, so many of my thoughts and realizations found not only companionship but validation and hope. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Thank you for becoming my ‘partner’ with your book, comforting me with your words and easing my way to surrender. I know that this process won’t be easy or quick…but I’m on my way.”<\/p>\n
Today, I am sitting on the couch in my kitchen, computer balanced on my knees, looking out at the same mountains that inspired me to put down roots in this small New England town five years ago. \u00a0But all of a sudden now, I feel a part of a much wider community, new friends with stories to share and words of support and encouragement. \u00a0Who knows, someday we all may meet in person somewhere, to walk on a beach, cook dinner, and compare notes face to face. \u00a0But until then, how grateful I am to know that we are connected by words, shared sensibilities, common hopes and dreams for ourselves and for our children.<\/p>\n
Let the conversation continue. \u00a0I am glad to know you!<\/p>\n
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