The Book

There’s a book sitting on the back of the toilet in the main bathroom in my house.

Every once in a while, when I have to use that bathroom, I pick up the book, flip through it, and put it back.

It’s a well loved book; read over and over and over.  The front cover is missing, the pages are taped together. 

It’s a fantasy book – Raymond Feist to be precise.

It’s been sitting there for 14 months.

It’s the last book he read.  More precisely – it was the book he was reading when he got sick.

Slowly, in my life, things have been moved around, shuffled around, space has been recreated and reclaimed.   

I think if he were to walk into the house right now, he wouldn’t recognize much – that much has changed.

But the book is still there.   I think it’s called Silverthorn… I’ll double check when I get home…

I picked it up this morning… read a few pages…and put it back….

With the exception of his fishing gear in my craft room – I think its the only thing that is still in the same spot it was when he went into the hospital.

The reality is that the book is at the point where it should be recycled and replaced.   It’s been read that many times.   I would like to get my youngest son into reading those books – he’s such a mini-Mark.

It’s a daily reminder of how he’s still very much a part of everything in this house.   I don’t know if he’ll ever be out of my house entirely… his stuff will always be there and he will always be there as well.

But the book taunts me.  Reminds me of how he wouldn’t use the ensuite because I kept the counter top so cluttered and it made it difficult for him to use that bathroom.  Reminds me of how he looked when he was engrossed in a book.  Reminds me of how I would always grab any new books first and read them first because I read so much faster than him.   Reminds me that I’ll never again be able to discuss with him the latest book with him.   Reminds me of his enthusiasm for the books we liked to read.  Reminds me how he got me involved with this genre in the first place – how the very first book I read that he introduced me to was written by J.V. Jones – her “The Book of Words” series, and I read them backwards… I read the last book in the trilogy first, then the 2nd, then the 1st…  and how he laughed at me because of it.

It reminds me of how much he loved to read.  It reminds me of how he was once tested as a part of an assessment and his reading/language skills were at the level of someone with 20 years education.

It reminds me of how intelligent he was, but because he never finished high school, because he was a stay at home Dad, most people simply dismissed him as the nice guy who raises his kids.

It reminds me of him.

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