My Mama’s Legacy

My first response to this weekend was that I was speechless– speechless that in the seven months since the birth of Bluebonnet Books Publishing that I had not only been able to publish three books, but also that the first novel published under my imprint had received such an outstanding response in the first two days of its publication.

My second response, however, has been grief– grief that the cheerleader who has forever been my closest confidante and voice of support could not celebrate the insane victory that this weekend was for me.

My mama was the first person I wanted to call after the Lake Erie Literary Festival today, but instead of getting to tell her how many books we sold or how tired and sore I was, I again have to face the sobering reality that my mother is no longer who she once was. Frontotemporal dementia has stolen not just her ability to celebrate with me, but her entire capacity for language that was once so dynamic and vast. 

I am struggling today because as I sat and told the story of her book (the first published under my imprint) to those stopping by my table, anguish wrenched my insides and anger overshadowed all that I was feeling. This disease has stolen my mother and also prolonged and extenuated the grief and mourning that comes with losing a parent. 

She is still here. I am grateful for that. But I am also frustrated and infuriated that this disease is having such a profoundly painful impact on our lives. I wanted to share my success with her. But instead, I will share it with you: 

Mama, I sold a bunch of books today. I’m really turning this publishing thing into something real. Your dream of one day publishing a book has come true, and because of it, I am who I am and am making a difference in others’ lives. Thank you. I love you. I know you’re proud of me.