This may seem silly or trite to some, but last week I read a book. A whole entire book. From start to finish. I even read the novella that followed.
Yes, it was a book that I’ve read before and yes, I was technically on vacation. But I did it! I actually read an ENTIRE book!
This is a huge deal for me. Since Benny died four and a half years ago, I haven’t been able to finish a book. At all. Which is a big deal because I used to be an avid reader. I would stay awake until the wee hours of the morning following some characters on a journey. I have always loved to read.
It’s killed me. I have not been able to finish a book. I would start, but not be able to finish anything. My nook account has been collecting dust instead of new titles. I now troll Facebook or Pinterest until I’m sleepy.
I don’t have seem to have the focus to be able to read. I don’t have the follow through to be able to finish what I’ve started. I’m distracted. All of the time. I’m on edge.
It makes me mad when I start to think about all of the other things that I’ve lost through grief. Friends, family members, peace of mind. It’s amazing how much it has shaped my life and who I have become. I’ve lost so much of my former self.
This made me happy. Gave me a glimpse of something possible. Even if it’s the only book I read all year. I still read a book.