Blissful reading

With a sleeping baby on my lap, my two eldest daughters happily playing upstairs and a few hours to go before I had to get dinner ready, I stole a few precious moments of blissful reading.  I had raced through most of the book and now wanted to read the last few pages.  It is such a wonderful book,  it is a non-fiction account of the relationship between a mother and son after the diagnosis of the mother's pancreatic cancer and the subsequent book club they form, just the two of them, reading and discussing the books sitting in hospital whilst the mother was undergoing treatments.  I loved the story of the relationships in the book, the wisdom and kind nature of the author's mother and I just love a book about books and the joy of reading.  How poor my life would be without books, what a different person I would be, what a tidier house I would have with all that free time!

A book written honestly and from the heart, about real events and real people is just the kind of book I like.  Fiction can be great too, but this style has to be my favourite, I should write one sometime.  I finished the book, still with my sleeping angel on my lap, and reached for my laptop to write and thank the author for writing such a wonderful, moving book.  (I have only ever done that once before).  I received an e-mail thanking me for my e-mail, do I write and say thanks back?  This could get silly.    Read it, read it, read it, is all I can say.

 The baby woke up, my little reading time was over.  I had to put the book down, dry my eyes and get on with my various roles of cook, cleaner, laundry woman, peace keeper; but I resumed these roles a little bit wiser, a little bit more nourished, and a little bit more grateful for a life with good books, happy children and a beautiful sleeping baby.