A Bookworm’s Gift
It is Sunday morning. I am curled up in bed reading Buddenbrook. I love that book. I had read my first copy over and over so many times throughout the years, that it finally completely fell apart. I then borrowed it from the library. My dear friend, Pnina, who passed away after my Peter, also loved books. We were in the habit of discussing what we read. One day, while sitting in our living room, in front of the fire, I happened to tell her how my Buddenbrook had fallen apart. Sweet dear Pnina one day thoughtfully presented me with a new copy of Buddenbrook and a copy of the Book of Psalms and the Songs of Solomon, because I found great comfort in the Psalms.
Oh my dear Pnina, how I miss your friendship, your humour and your company. I miss our English teas and our outings to dim sum and Kelly driving us that last time to Chinese New Year when you got too sick to drive us. It was snowing that day. Kelly took a photo of the two us. I think that was our last time celebrating Chinese New Year. I miss our going to the Italian restaurant in our neighbourhood. We chatted, ate our food and sipped at our wine while talking, talking, talking. I cherish those times and often think of them.
As I was saying, it is Sunday morning and I am curled up in bed reading. My classical station is playing soothing music. Suddenly I stop reading and listen. Is that rain I hear crashing against the roof and the windows? Yes it is! How delightful! I snuggle deeper under the covers and listen to the combination of the music and the rain. My eyelids droop and I fall back to sleep.