Tuesday, March 29, 2011

One second. . .

Yesterday I went to the bank. A sensible thing to do on my way to pick Bianca up from school after I filled the car with gas.  I pulled my car to the side of the building, placed my stack of checks ready to deposit from selling my book to friends in the neighborhood under the little silver bar, and then let go. In that one second between letting go of my checks and the teller pulling in the drawer, the wind took hold and lifted. In that one second, I grasped for papers like flying birds and pulled down some, but two paper birds escaped into the wind. One a deposit slip, the other a signed check. A friend's check. I couldn't grasp at the moment that I shouted to the teller that my check was already in the street that my friend's bank account number was circling and soaring through the air--ready for anyone to grab and use. I didn't understand how my clumsy hands would torment my mind as I thought of compromising the bank account of a friend who took a chance on me and my book.  Sure, it was only $11. The money means nothing, except that every single penny is worthwhile to me when it comes to making sense of the money I spent on publishing this book, and it makes me sick every second I think of who might be lurking, waiting to find a check and do the worst they can with it.

I sat in my car with my head buried in my hands and cried, even as the guy in his suit and tie leapt out in the street trying to find the check that was, by then, at least to Provo with the strength of the wind. And in that moment, the culmination of a really crappy day just hit me. A ton of bricks at my head. From this morning when I plucked my Portia from her gymnastics class after being somewhat callously tossed aside by the instructor when she bumped her head and was left alone crying on a mat. And the scene I made, hands and voice shaking as I told the instructor I was pulling my daughter from the class immediately. From feeling excluded recently. From second-guessing myself, feeling that maybe it hadn't been "brave" to publish my raw book as someone in church had mentioned in passing, but rather foolish because now I felt a vulnerable mess to everyone I saw. I was a vulnerable mess as I left the bank, went splotchy-faced to my daughter's school and picked her up.  I felt a vulnerable mess as Bianca and I crept around the Wal-Mart parking lot searching every scrap of paper stuck between bushes and against street curbs, hoping that maybe we'd find our paper birds taking a rest from flight, our needles in a haystack.

As we returned home, dejected, I imagine hopefully (and probably a little foolishly) a real bird circling around and snatching the paper from the sky or stuck inbetween some leaves of a tree and gobbling the numbers up. I imagine a person finds the check and rips it up because kind people still exist in the world. I went home and fell into my bed and cried under my covers until it was dinner time.  In sleeplessness 5 am the next morning, I feel dread calling my friend and telling her what happened. I spend hours reliving that one second when my fingers are able to grasp that check and my small (but enormous to me) fate changes. If only I could have that one second back.  

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

We all have these days. I'm so sorry everything came crashing down at once. You have done a great thing publishing your book and sharing what you have learned with others. Don't doubt it for a second. And it is none of your business what other people think about you, so don't give it another thought. You know the truth that you are a strong and beautiful woman who is making a difference. Love you!

Cami said...

I'm sorry. Such hard things and they crash all at once.
Now that you've mourned, you can let it go.
This is where only a Heavenly Father can help. Pray the check biodegrades faster than normal. :)

Jenny G said...

Those days seem to always come at some point. I'm sorry to hear yours was today. But, you should never ever regret publishing your book. Remember how much I love it and that it has made me a better mom for reading it. I'm even circling it with my friends. You are making your dreams come true and I think it is super commendable. Hang in there, eat a brownie:)

rachel said...

I love you, Jeana!!

Erin said...

Hugs and prayers are being sent your way. I think it is wonderful that you published your book. Thank you for being in my neighborhood and for being a great friend.

Christie Gardiner said...

Oh Jeana!!! If it were my check, I wouldn't care! The only thing that would make me sad is that you were so upset by it. I'm sorry you had a horrible day. I love you!

P.S. You did the right thing about Portia's class!