I love to read. Since I was the last of four children, I understand that my siblings read to me practically from the moment I was born. I can remember scenes from “Heidi” or “Tom Sawyer” better than I can recall events in which I actually participated. Unfortunately, I don’t take the time to read much nowadays. Of course I read all day long – periodicals, emails, blogs – but I rarely take the time to open a novel and immerse myself.
Mom and Dad have had a steady supply of books and magazines surrounding them for as far back as I can remember. They both taught Sunday School so Saturday afternoons were a quiet time around the house as they put the finishing touches on their lessons. They had books piled on their nightstands, next to their chairs, and on the kitchen table. Many of those spots continue to have books covering their surface.
I’m sitting here watching her today. The moment she finishes her breakfast, she picks up a Guidepost or Open Windows. Her methods are different than before her life started changing. In years past, she would begin on the first page and devour every sentence until the last page. Then she would put her initials on the front, indicating that she had finished. Dad would do the same and only then would I be allowed get the Reader’s Digest for myself. Now she flips randomly to a story or an ad and stares at the one page for a long time. She mouths the words as she reads them, sometimes reading them aloud to share with me (or Dad or Jean.)
Her fascination with words fascinates me. She finds humor in what I would consider odd spots. She’ll begin to giggle, then laugh out loud. Letters from friends or family can be read and reread. Many times she will retell the contents of the letter as if she has just spoken with the author. Much of what she reads seems to actually happen to her personally.
I think books or magazines make the best gifts. They have been my favorite presents through the years especially if they were inscribed “To Donna, With Love from…”. When I finish reading, I am loathe to give them away so I have shelves of children’s books, music books, novels, and more. As I look around Mom and Dad’s house, I see where I get it! Dad has used the library in town or at church more recently, but there are stacks of books or periodicals everywhere. Mom used to be quite a hoarder, but he’s been able to get many of the older stacks reduced gradually.
I am so grateful for Open Windows, Guideposts, Reader’s Digest, Good Old Days, and all the women’s magazines Dad subscribes to on her behalf. For an hour or several, Mom will be content reading their words. Much of television’s content confuses her now so books are always a safe refuge. I don’t know how she processes the language and ideas – very often she’ll read the same page over and over again. That part doesn’t matter. The words themselves seem to be a comfort, a place where she is familiar and content.
For a caregiver, that is a wonderful thing. I don’t know how much longer she’ll be drawn into words, but for now I am thankful. From the eyes of a daughter, it is a pleasure to me to see her doing something that she’s done as far back as my memory will allow. I have memories of her sitting quietly in her chair reading when my perspective was that of a child. For this moment, I can see her strong and whole.
I think I’ll go find a book and sit beside her for a while.
