In Search of More Books

I am having a crappy day.


My grandmother’s in the hospital. She’s my only living grandmother, the one who instilled in me a love of reading and extra-sharp cheddar and sending thank-you notes. Her legs are badly infected due to complications of her diabetes. She’s on morphine because she’s in a great deal of pain. The doctors are hoping they can clear up the infections with IV antibiotics, without surgery. I’m more worried about her spirit than her legs. Because of her deteriorating spine and decades-old bad knees, she can barely walk as it is. As her mobility and my grandfather’s Alzheimer’s have gotten worse, she has, understandably, gotten more depressed.


I adore her beyond words. I wish there were more I could do. My dad and my uncles are visiting. My mom (her ex-daughter-in-law, with whom she’s maintained a really awesome relationship through the years) is going to visit. My sister and I are sending flowers. I’ll call her as soon as I get her room number, and send her a card, and generally let her know I’m thinking of her. I feel guilty that I’m too far away to jaunt up and visit her, but since I don’t drive, and Steve is so busy with rehearsals…those spontaneous visits to PA are saved for more dire circumstances.


I wish I could make her whole, and healthy, and happy, and young again.


For her. And for me, too, selfishly. My other grandfather was in the hospital for a heart procedure on Monday. There have been lots of worried family phone calls this week, to the point where I’m anxious that it’ll be bad news when my phone rings. It’s all a reminder that my time with my three surviving grandparents—ages 80, 83, and 85—will not last forever. Which I know. But knowing is different from knowing.


It’s the sort of day where I just want to be comforted. And Steve has rehearsal tonight, so I won’t see him until at least 11. Thus, I’m taking myself on a date. A bookstore date, to be specific, to the big Barnes & Noble downtown. I’m going to buy two new books: Bliss by Lauren Myracle and Chains by Laurie Halse Anderson. I’m going to drink candy coffee and eat a cookie the size of my head. I’m going to browse the YA section and add things to my Christmas wish-list. And I’m going to do some writing, because I just this morning figured out the ending of book2.


What’s your favorite date with yourself?

(And what should I add to my Christmas wishlist? Amazon insists on recommending the Twilight series over and over, and I’m all, Hi, every girl I know has already read those books. Get with it, Amazon!)

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