childhood

My heart was tickled: My son wanted to go book shopping

 

When I was a young girl in the Bronx, my mom used to do something for me that was extraordinary. Well, of course, everything my mom did for me was extraordinary. My mom went the extra mile or hundred for me. And for that I will be forever grateful. One thing in particular that she did was get me books from the library or buy me books with what little money we had. I have lost the majority of those books. Or rather, I no longer have any but one; that being a Spanish-English dictionary that she got me.  I have not opened that dictionary in two decades, I believe. But I hope to pass it on to my son. Its one of the few things I have left from back then. And to me that dictionary represents my love affair with books that helped me get out of where I was and to grow the curiosity within my mind.

 

But enough about that past. Its a bit too sad for this early spring day.  And plus, I am very happy at the moment with the state of my son’s love of books.

 

About a month ago or so, we were in Santa Monica walking around enjoying the beauitiful scenery after having had an awesomely delicious meal (with a view). My son, while walking, asked if we could go into the bookstore. Of course, we could!  I, myself, was surprised to still see a bookstore.  He bought a few books. Since then I ordered through Amazon  many more for him. Then this past weekend, he again asked (while we were home) whether we could go book shopping. That moment was pure glory. As someone who grew up on books, I was happy that despite his love of video games, he could still find the time, desire and energy to read real books.

 

Off we went to a special bookstore in downtown Los Angeles. We went to a bookstore called The Last Bookstore.  It is a bookstore that has an arts gallery, old books and a Labyrinth. Its a fun bookstore with history, a sense of irony and an old odd-fashioned way of being a bookstore.  My son wandered and explored and found nooks to walk into.  The bookstore smelled like a bookstore. You could smell the paper. You could feel in the air that people had read these books in the past. It made you wonder about their history and their journey to this bookstore.

 

 

 

I felt a bit of nostalgia that I hope my son will feel as well in the future.

 

 

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