Nothing Like a Good Book

Finally, I got around to reading a book, what I had meant to do over spring break. It was a book recommended by my friend Amanda, who has impeccable taste in literature, to both Molly and I. When Anna and I were at the library I saw it and picked it up. Molly knows it's in the house, but like a good mom I told her I had first dibs; she could get it when I'm done. She kept hunting for it and asking for it, so I had an excuse to immerse myself in it this morning.

It is a morning that I had nothing pressing to do. It's the kind of morning when you smell spring, you hear spring, but the temperature is crisp and chilly, reminding you that winter still has not let go all the way. A perfect morning to curl up with a book and cup of coffee in a chair where I can see the world greening up but not quite warming up, while the littlest family member is sleeping in.

It was a lovely book. A book that whispers about things in life worth paying attention to (something I often get wrong). When I finished, I smiled when I thought about how happy Molly will be when I hand her the book.

My girls have inherited their parents' love of books. As you know, reading is an indulgence I limit in my life, because I will neglect all earthly duties until a good novel is finished. Anna just did this yesterday, for the first time. She's holed up in her room with stacks of books before, but this was different. She had a specific book she was buried in, and couldn't tear herself away or bear to be bothered until she got to the end.

Jeff always has a book going, and the books are always in odd places all over the house, with their piece of toilet paper bookmarks. Molly has the same habits, minus the toilet paper bookmark: hers are open to the page she left. Truthfully, if I didn't pick up my house, much of the clutter would be people's books and the beverages, throws, big pillows, and other accessories that make the reading all the more enjoyable.

I'm glad this is a family passion. There is nothing quite like a good book to feed your soul. Maybe that's a reason that in the back of my mind is always a wish to be an author: I would love to leave the world such a gift. Maybe it's the reason that I have always loved reading to my girls, even when they were newborns. I would sit in the rocker and read aloud to them the entire time they napped soundly in my lap: it seemed the perfect way to share some of the best of what life has to offer with them. Now they read to me, and I love it too, believing that maybe reading is a way they express themselves.

Maybe this is all just an elaborate excuse for wiling away a few hours this morning...