Books, wonderful books

I've always been a reader. I can remember being fascinated with books as a little girl. My favorite Auntie was studying to be a teacher when I was a toddler, so I believe I can safely blame her for this love. She would read to me for hours. When I was four, she and my uncle got married and they moved to the Albany area. It fell to my older cousin, Susan, to read to me. Chapter books were above my own ability to read at the time, so that's what I begged for. Every night during my visit, Susie would come down and read me a chapter before bed. (Except the year I got the chicken pox. Then she refused to even come in the house! She'd come down to visit, make me go up to the second floor and open the bedroom window, then she'd stand outside the first floor and talk to me.)

An older lady, Grace Austin, lived next to my Grandmother and Grandfather Swayne. We didn't visit Grace much, but I do remember whenever I got to go over there, I was drawn to her bookshelf. She had a copy of Gone with the Wind from the year the movie was released. It was printed like a bible - two columns on each page, very fancy print at the beginning of the chapter, still pictures from the movie. I think I was probably able to read Dr. Seuss by myself at that point, but for some reason I just loved that book. Grace died around the time I was in the sixth grade and somehow I ended up with that lovely book. I read it cover-to-cover that year. I was quite proud of myself for reading such a grown-up book.

My Grandmother Swayne was also a reader. I believe I've said before that I'd go and stay with her for a couple weeks in the summer, and just about any weekend I could get someone to drive me down. When I was in college and had my own car, I'd drive myself down and spend the weekend with her. There was a bookshelf in one of the old bedrooms where she saved the books she'd read. The first night I was there, I'd make my way into the little bedroom to see what wonderful book I'd get to read during that particular visit.

So it doesn't surprise me that in my grief, I've turned to books. I recently purchased one based solely on its title, I Wasn't Ready To Say Goodbye. Talk about a great title! It's actually written for people coping after the sudden death of a loved one, but there was a lot in it that resonated with me. I especially liked the following quote:

"Grief is not something we 'get over' or heal from as if it were an illness. It is a journey to a new stage of life. The goal is not forgetting or resolving. The goal is to reconcile yourself to your loss and discover some kind of spiritual meaning. You will always have a relationship with the person who died, but the relationship is different. Your quest is to discover that relationship."