many of you who have bought books as gifts for me in the past know that I most love used books that have been personalized, dedicated and inscribed, in particular by people from days from long ago.
this spring I'm taking a class in post-modernism in children's lit and ordered all my books used via
powells books. i was delighted to discover that one of them was inscribed to a grandson. the letters were lovely, flowing, even swirls, penned by the grandmother and the handwriting reminded me of the letters my g-aunt mary used to write to my grandfather.
but then i reread it. and i noticed the date she had included. and it made me so sad to think that a book that had been given to a grandson as recently as Christmas of 1991, was already back in circulation.
except, now i have it, and i'll love it instead.
bill tried to make me feel better by suggesting that maybe the boy had died.
...
i think i should punch him more.