So, a week or so ago, I strained a muscle on the right side of my back. I am now in physical therapy for it, (which in itself is a whole new realm of pain,) but boy, you never realize how much all the muscles are interconnected! And since I am right-handed, every time I use my right hand, it makes my whole arm hurt…
Anyway, yesterday, I ran out of my strong pain meds, and while on errands, and although I felt like someone was stabbing a sharp instrument into the muscle in my back, we stumbled upon this cute book shop not far from our house.
It was a used book shop full of old and rare books, and every corner of the small shop was jammed packed with all sorts of old treasures. The owner of the shop greeted us when we walked in, and the door did a small jingle as it shut behind us. The first book I picked up was published in 1901, and I felt my heart beat with excitement.
I could barely move from the pain, but I couldn’t wait to find a new book, or an old one, or just something to spark the imagination, to take myself to some different world, to a magical realm of my very own. I like the smell of old books, too. I like the smell of the pages…all dusty, ink and possibilities.
“Let me know if I can help you find something,” said the shop owner; an old man of retirement age, with white hair and beard, intelligent eyes and a shirt that read, ‘There’s always room for more books.’
And suddenly I could picture it: I would come here on Saturday afternoons and look for books. One rainy afternoon I would strike up a conversation with the old man about antique books, which would then lead into a conversation about favorite authors, and then writing; and then next thing I know, a month later its like Tuesdays with Morrie for us…he’s my new writing mentor and that’s that. He’ll be my sudden spark of inspiration, my friend, my encouragement…all because I stumbled into his shop one blustery April afternoon.
Michael’s voice interrupts my thoughts, though, while I’m standing there dumbly in the wonderfully warm book shop. “Babe, we got to leave. We won’t have time to get your pain meds before my appointment.”
Me: (hopefully) “Five more minutes?”
For the record, we didn’t have time to stop at the store before Michael’s eye appointment, but it inspired this blog post.
There’s always time for books…even if you are in pain…because for me, books are a medicine of a different kind, and I love it!
Hope you guys are having a great weekend!