Every night before bed, he would get out a pen and paper and write. He would go on and on about a whole bunch of things. He could come up with all sorts of stories. He must have written over a million by now. He never published any of them. The only people who would read them were his wife and kids. He wrote all sorts of stories, from bedtime stories to murder mysteries. He did not hold back. He was a music teacher while his wife was a theater teacher. He spent a ton of time with his family. Every night before he went to bed, he either wrote a new story or continued an old one. He had a whole collection of his stories that could be its own library.
His kids grew up and they began to go down different paths. His eldest daughter became an actress, his son became a doctor and his youngest daughter was a lawyer. No matter how old he got, he wrote every night. He kept being true to himself. Even when his grandkids were born, he continued to write. He made a whole book series for each of his family members. He had always wanted to publish his books – to let others get lost in a world he had created. It was his dream to be recognized.
His wife suddenly died one day. He was devastated. Sure, they were older, but she was just fine the previous day. Everything came crashing down. He tried his best to write that night, but all he could think about was that the love of his life, his soulmate, would never get to read the books that were written for her. He was devastated. He decided right then and there that he would publish all his books he had written for his wife the next day. It might take years, but he was willing to make that sacrifice. Finally, standing up with nothing on the paper besides his wife’s name, he made an appointment online for the next day and he went to bed.
The next day, he woke up and put all the books for his wife in the back of the car. He carefully grabbed her urn and buckled it in the passenger seat. He got into the driver’s seat and drove off to a publishing company. When he got to their building, he immediately went up into the meeting room where all the executives were. He stood in front of them all with his books and what remained of his wife and gave it his all, presenting each book individually. He would not let his work be in vain, not after this many years. Mind racing, he presented everything, trying to calm down. Hours later he finished and went home.
He waited for days, waiting for the call back. But he never got it… he sat at the end of the bed before it all went black… he never got to see their faces, he never saw his family’s reactions to the books. He never saw his dream come true… and he never will.