It looked like this here yesterday. And like:
So Mom and I decided a soggy Saturday’s a good day to clean out the attic. (It seemed like a good idea at the time.)
Now, you may not know this about me. But I’m a Great Attic Clean-Up Supervisor. I found a comfy rug. Laid down. Watched Mom cart stuff up and down the stairs. Dust. Categorize. Box. Un-box. Re-box.
Supervisin’s a tough job. But somebody’s gotta do it.
Anyway, Mom opened this one box. And sat down. “Oh my!” says she. “Kimmi, look at this!”
What? Did you unearth new doggie treats? A secret stash of gourmet dog food? The neighbor’s cat?
Lemme tell ya. I rolled over and I listened up right quick! Especially since she had The Look. The one Moms get when they’re remembering. All dewy-eyed and nostalgic. Looking all sparkly.
What kind of buried treasure did we just unearth?
Mom starts pulling books out of the box. Title after title. From when my brothers were little. Like:
“Does this ever take me back,” murmurs Mom. Twenty years of homeschooling. Preschool storytime at the library every Friday. Summer reading programs. Weekly trips to the library. Reading forts.
Mom was doing that sparkly, shimmery thing again. Maybe because my bros are all grown up now. But Mom says they used to spend hours reading aloud together every day. When my four bros were little. I don’t know why. But if remembering makes her do that dewy-sparkly-shimmery thing, it must be good.
Later, my 19 y.o big bro was looking at some of the books. He pulled one out. “I remember this!” he crows. “I got this for my birthday!” (A milk bone? Naw. Some other treasure.) Here it is:
Josiah was four years old. My bro is one amazing dude, eh?
Then Mom said something about good books. How they never get old.
“You never outgrow a good story” says she. “A good book lives forever. Is always waiting for you to come back. Pick up where you left off. A good book can create a lifetime of shared memories. Build bridges linking the past, present, and future. Diving into a book that’s an old favorite? It feels like coming home.”
Who’d a hunk one soggy Saturday could turn out to be so sparkly?
Ya gonna eat that? (Askin’ for a friend.)