*** Reposted - Celebrating my Mom's 90th Birthday, may God rest her soul***
As a very young child, I remember sitting by the fireplace watching my Mom read...she loved books.
From romance novels to history books, my Mom read everything.
I would often sit beside her and just watch her turn the pages. She would sometimes read to me, and sometimes let me hold the book and read to her.
Books were in every room of our home. Old books, new books…books with bookmarks in them,
books on bookshelves, in the bathroom, kitchen and even “do-it-yourself” books in the garage.
I love the feel, the look and even the smell of a real book.
Mom died 12 years ago…I was left with her books.
The other day I picked up one her favorites “The Old Man and the Sea” by Ernest Hemingway.
As I skimmed through the pages, I read some comments my Mom made (she often did that) and a warm feeling came over me… this book touched my Mom, she touched every page, she read every word and now this book touches me.
When I released my book “Pecan Pie” (dedicated to my Mom), I refused to have it published electronically. For the many of you that asked why…I think you now know the answer.
Books are for written for humanity, and nothing can replace the humanity of a real book.
Click here for a sample