Yesterday, while having some feels, I picked up an old favorite book with a small note inside:
“Smith Family Bookstore, 1pm, 8/18/14”
Who knows what else I had been up to that day? — likely an uneventful work day in Eugene in which I stole away during the lunch hour to wander the aisles — dreaming my favorite dreams for a bit before real life came crashing back in. Perhaps I would have recalled the day anyway while re-reading, or conflated that with another time?
Someday, the boys will have to sort thru all of the detritus I left behind…never fully knowing why this book stayed on shelf after shelf, moving from house to apartment to house, across an ocean no less, only to end up in the ‘donate’ pile that we all leave behind. Maybe it won’t survive that long, as I live on a tropical island now where Nature’s damp, mold, floods, or hurricanes might re-claim the delicate little pages before anyone else needs to concern themselves with whether or not I loved a thing, or simply couldn’t let go.
A bit of melancholy musing, but not sad. I’m here. I’m now.
And there’s even a bit more of this August left still for a re-read…
xoxo,
m
