What’s The Book About?

My book is scheduled to ship to LNK late next week and I’m very excited to get it into your hands to read and remember the place that I loved creating.  At 275 pages, 166 full-color photographs, the finished hardcover product is beautiful, reflecting the talent of the team that worked so diligently to bring it to fruition. The first question most people ask: “What’s the book about?”

I labored a couple of years over the decision on whether to write the book or not.  I was asked point blank why anyone would want to read a book about a restaurant that failed? That questioned stumped me, and I initially agreed with its assumption.  I failed, so dig the hole, bury it and move on, right? But I could not get away from a higher thought. Something kept persisting, something bigger than I was willing to consider.

Is the story larger than the restaurant?

I eventually came to the conclusion that yes, it is larger, because I came to a point where I could see a different story.  My eyes shifted from loss and failure to seeing what I gained as a result of having to finally close the doors.

I found Hope.

There was a time not too long ago when Hope was in very short supply in my life. All I could see was Despair and it was doing its job crushing any Hope that I had left.  Depression is called that because it presses in from all sides, leaving little room for rational and reasonable thinking. I look back with a nauseating grief remembering how I felt during that time.  It’s terrifying and I don’t ever want to be there again. If my story can provide a little of the Hope that was extended to me in my darkest hour and help someone back away from the ledge of Despair, I will be glad I took the risk to speak up.

There is a term in psychology called Object Permanence.  It begins in early childhood development around 4-7 months. A child is learning that when the ball isn’t visible, it doesn’t mean it is gone forever.  This is why peek-a-boo is so fun for little kids. They think mom and dad are magicians by pulling a ball out of thin air. I suffered from a lack of object permanence with Hope.  Loss and failure blindfolded me so I couldn’t see it. I was almost convinced it was gone forever. I needed some important people to assure me that Hope did indeed exist. I had to trust the eyes of others who could see what I couldn’t.

I didn’t just write about cooking and print a few recipes.  I tell about what was going on in my life that led me to take the huge risk to open a business of which I had no prior experience. I’ve included some of my past writing about Karen’s journey with cancer.  You’ll get a glimpse of what it was like to have our community rally around her. The thread that you’ll see woven throughout is how Hope was always a part of everything, from the inception to its decline. Hope keeps drawing me forward through another loss as cancer finally took Karen away.  It’s a story that isn’t fully finished. It goes beyond simple food and drink. Way beyond. I hope it will inspire someone to not give up.

The best is yet to come.