Sunday, March 23, 2014

On Death and Books

After a while you start forgetting if you already mentioned certain subjects in here. I did a quick search and it seems I haven't but if I did, I apologize for the redundancy. I would like to talk to you about death and how books have been there for me.

If you are wondering how come I am talking about such a sad subject...well, my grandfather died this month and so this has been very present in my head. He was a wonderful man; not a reader, but a wonderful, giving man that brought up a family and was always there for us.

The first death I had to encounter was my mom's, when I was 7. Then I found refugee in my books. At school during recess I didn't felt like playing so I immersed myself deep into them and started exploring a whole new universe of possibilities that made dealing with her death a bit easier.

This time however it was not the case. It wasn't, like in my mother's case, a sudden death. He wasn't sick, but he was 91 years old, and so we all knew that any extra time we had with him was borrowed time. So when it happened we weren't surprised, we were sad as can be, but it was to be expected and luckily the last image I have from him is not of a sick, decaying person but someone warm and full of love.

But then I haven't been able to read as I used to, mostly because I've been feeling so tired. I flew back home days before he died, so I was there for his birthday and I got to spend some time with him. He passed away 3 days before I had to come back, and so the last 3 days were a rush of helping my grandma, funeral, family gatherings...and then I had to jump on a plane. Ever since then, I've been fine, until I sit down at home...invariably I fall asleep in minutes, like If I had a constant burden on my shoulders.

The books I've finished were on audio and one of them I was listening to with someone else. But I haven't managed to find that comfort I felt in books back then. I wonder if it is because reading was an activity I had with my mom and hence reading made me feel like she was still there, but since I never actually read with my grandpa, when I try to read it makes him feel farther away?

So, I realize that I haven't talked a lot about books, more like the fact that I haven't been able to get in a book since he died. I also realized I've been rambling a bit, but it has made me feel better to talk about this. Thanks for dropping bye.

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