Chapters

Yesterday morning was my second book signing at Chapters.  Jody sent her love with me as I left home.  I was wonderfully calm and was so looking forward to whomever would be strolling down the aisle.

What does it mean that I sit at a table in a bookstore and sign copies of Jody’s book?  Am I famous?  No.  Is there a sign in the lobby mentioning my name?  Yes.  I don’t think that the signing itself means anything.  It’s just another opportunity to spread the love that Jody and I share.  There’s my desire to have ever more folks read our story, hopefully be touched by it, and then give a little more love to their precious ones.  Yes, that’s what I want.

I had 1000 copies of Jodiette: My Lovely Wife printed.  When I sat down at Chapters, I had given away 746 of them.  In one context, that’s better than 300, but in another it doesn’t matter.  Our love migrates outward whether on the written page or not.  Somehow, in a universe not far, far away, Jody and I touch people, whether or not they realize it.

So .. there sits my bum in a chair behind a table decorated with feng shui-like piles of books.  People come and people go, most of them not making eye contact.  Those that do receive a “Hello” from me.  Nothing more, unless they want to talk.

Several friends show up and I get to hug and palaver.  How wonderful that they came.  The little part of me that’s tied to stats is disappointed, though.  “They already have one of Jody’s books.”  Oh, Bruce … let go of the smallness.

Here comes Trevor (all names here are changed to protect the happy).  He’s the employee that has set up the table for me.  He asks about Jody’s story.  He talks about the importance of love.  He invites customers to come over and see me.  He wants to have a book.

Here comes Barry.  He’s an older gentleman, just like me.  He wants to write about the tapestries of his life.  He’s put this off for a long time.  I tell him about self-publishing with Blurb.  I talk about my writing challenges and delights.  He smiles.  He wants to have a book.

And then there’s Nicole, probably in her 70’s.  We talk of love and loss.  Her husband and my wife.  We both soften.  She wants to have a book.  A half hour later, she comes back to the table with a man who has become her second husband.  They’re holding hands.  They’re caressing each other’s arms.  Nicole says that neither of their partners were very affectionate physically, but the two souls in front of me sure are.  Everyone smiles.

What a privilege to sit there and welcome human beings into my space.  I just might do that every day, no matter where I am.

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