Books have always been a part of her life. First from the library. Then, as family responsibilities made getting there more difficult, Reader’s Digest condensed books would come to the house monthly for many years. She always made sure her kids had books. I don’t know about my siblings, but the first time she reached up to the bookshelf and handed me one of them saying, “there is a story here I think you might like to read” made me feel grown up somehow. None of those books, from that time forward was off limits for me.
After a while, as the bookshelves became full, and the books grew more
expensive, she went back to going to the library. The Ruthven branch
of the library was a weekly, (if not more often) part of her routine. I
am sure there are several librarians who will no doubt recall a massive
hold list, and a full bookbags. When we started going to the library in
Leamington after a move, I am sure the circulation dropped noticeably
in Ruthven.
Time started robbing her of things. Her hearing got bad, tv is not possible anymore. She had to give up quilting as the arthritis in her hands progressed. Getting out got difficult, so I would go for her, (and still do) but the bookbags were still full. I recall many nights going to bed with her still reading.
Her eyes are going bad. Large print books are the norm. It can take her a week to read a book instead of a night, but she is still reading. It hurts to see her struggle sometimes.
She turns 91 tomorrow. And a trip to the library for books is on my to do list.
Happy Birthday Mom.
That was something I wrote on my Library Facebook page. So much has changed in that year and a half. She no longer reads.
It started slowly that the large print books started getting unread, but she still read the local paper everyday. Then slowly, it would be the front page and the obituaries. This June, after the paper went unread for weeks, I finally cancelled it. She struggled to comprehend the obituary of my uncle, her youngest brother.
She doesn't have much time left, being in the clinical stage where death is foreseeable, yet not imminent.
Funny the things that make you realize that your parent is actually dying. To me, her not reading has started the mourning.
Time started robbing her of things. Her hearing got bad, tv is not possible anymore. She had to give up quilting as the arthritis in her hands progressed. Getting out got difficult, so I would go for her, (and still do) but the bookbags were still full. I recall many nights going to bed with her still reading.
Her eyes are going bad. Large print books are the norm. It can take her a week to read a book instead of a night, but she is still reading. It hurts to see her struggle sometimes.
She turns 91 tomorrow. And a trip to the library for books is on my to do list.
Happy Birthday Mom.
That was something I wrote on my Library Facebook page. So much has changed in that year and a half. She no longer reads.
It started slowly that the large print books started getting unread, but she still read the local paper everyday. Then slowly, it would be the front page and the obituaries. This June, after the paper went unread for weeks, I finally cancelled it. She struggled to comprehend the obituary of my uncle, her youngest brother.
She doesn't have much time left, being in the clinical stage where death is foreseeable, yet not imminent.
Funny the things that make you realize that your parent is actually dying. To me, her not reading has started the mourning.
