When I was growing up, as far back as I can remember, ever since I could read ,
At least since about 8th grade, my mom
and I passed books to each other passed books to me. I would come home from school and she would have just finished a book, or a reader’s digest, or just a great newspaper article, and hand it to me, and say, this was so good, you should read it, and I would.
My Dad would go to the public library
every week , once a month quite often and sometimes I’d tag along. This went on throughout my junior highschool and highschool years and he would be giddy about the stack of books he’d bring home. He didn’t hand them to me and suggest I read them. I doubt they would have interested me, they were sci-fi, or westerns, or how-to books…but he has always loved to read. I’ve never asked my sis if she has these memories too, but I think she must. Because now SHE’s the one who passes me books. Any time we see each other she has a bag full of books for me, and sometimes she pulls a particular one out of the bag and says, THIS one is REALLY good, you’ll love it. Or more likely she’ll try to tell me how good a book is and she can’t really express it, and ends up saying “….oh this one…just read it, there’s a twist….” If you look at my list of books in my sidebar, most of those have come from Cheryl. Not all, but most. She has really good taste in literature. The one I’m reading now, “Without Reservations” is a very gentle sweet journal of a trip overseas the author took by herself. It’s not exciting, and it’s not riveting, but it feels like a very close friend. And it’s waiting for me upstairs on my bed stand. Goodnight.