One Door Closes

Two weeks ago I watched my reflection as I closed the door on a chapter of my life that has been written over the last twenty years.

The only remnants of thousands of days of memories in a family owned business were the ghostlike sticky imprints where Heartland Mortgage, Inc had breathed life and laughter into my life for so many years while supporting a very good lifestyle.

Until it didn’t.

Much like our days of infertility I had a hard time dealing with the reality that we needed to make a huge change.

Take a risk that would put  everything on the line for us to have the one thing we wanted more than anything more than a dozen years ago: a biological child.

Maybe I got kind of lost after that goal was reached.

I stopped fighting for new causes.

Got comfortable in my hard fought battle to become a father.

So much so that I stopped taking risks.

Stayed at a job that was comfortable rather than inspiring.

I guess the one thing I didn’t learn was to make the move before you get uncomfortable.

So many times looking back opportunities came up that I now know could have put me and my family on a new path.

Maybe even given me the opportunity to help other families with their infertility pursuits by becoming a lobbyist, advocate, politician with a passion for the needs of the infertile population.

But I couldn’t let go of the familiarity of what I had done.

And I didn’t trust my ability to provide for my family enough to take that risk.

I knew that I had to finish one thing before I could start another.

I had to stop relying on a security blanket that was providing less and less security.

So with a heavy heart,  a few tears, and some regrets, I closed that door.

The hardest part about closing that door, is that I have loved advocating for housing consumers all these years.

If anything, the past six years of the housing bust and boom have strengthened my writing and advocacy skills, and I’ve sat in Congressional offices here in Tucson, gone to State government meetings in Phoenix, and attended government housing forums to provide a voice for the homeowners that watched the value of their biggest investment decimated by forces far beyond their control.

I provided a voice for homeowners mired in the confusion of what they could do to save their houses from foreclosure.  Heart breaking as it was many times, I loved the process of fighting for them.

Infertility decimates the dream of having a child with just a magical night of intimacy. I realized that Almost A Father has become more than just a vehicle to sell a book about our story.

It can provide a male voice for couples suffering from infertility.   A voice of reason to combat the ridiculous legislation that continues to pop up all over the country that threatens to make infertility treatment even more difficult.

So I return to the blogosphere both scared and excited.

I am scared because the future is unknown.

But I remember this kind of fear.

It is the kind of fear that comes from knowing you are entering the arena where life can change dramatically.

Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.  That Donald Walsch quote has been my screensaver since I made the decision to close the family business just a few months ago.

I have taken a job for a large bank, with a lot of resources.

Resources that I know can take me to places I have never been before.

Ultimately, my goal is to be in Washington DC or New York City to join the forces of positive change.

To use my writing and speaking abilities to give a voice to people who don’t have one.

I’ve never had to courage to put this out there, and perhaps that’s why it has never come to fruition.

Now it’s out there.

I always thought that it was too difficult for me to dare greatly.

Now I realize it is because I haven’t dared greatly, that things are difficult.

That has all changed.

Stay tuned.

The new door has just opened.