For decades now, I have traveled cross country multiple times, lugging boxes upon boxes of books. I’ve always been proud of my own personal library collection. Books were everything to me growing up. I loved being transported to these other worlds. As a kid, I even wrote my own novel. Books were a source of pride.
Despite that book love affair, I’ve had to scale back on my items due to space. New York is not kind to those with many books, pots/pans, handbags, shoes and clothes. Something always has to give. Now, while scaling back I had to make choices.
Box upon box is filled with books I will be donating to whoever takes them. Some libraries and clinics are still not taking donations due to covid protocols. Interestingly, this past year as I was scaling back, I randomly received two books in the mail. I never ordered them. Neber heard of them. I was quite confused. And, there was no sender.
Maybe someone was trying to send me a message to not give up on my book library. Or someone mistook me for someone else. Life can be random. Now even though I’m scaling back I’m keeping these two books (for a while at least) while I figure out my next paths. They are to remind me not only that life can be random, but also that we sometimes can’t easily shake off our roots.