Saying Goodbye to Friends....

I have been busy purging again. Saying goodbye to more of my books. I haven't counted how many books I have, but I did give away nearly 200 more, and the wall of bookcases still looks full.

That's a lot of books.

A lot of the books I donated were “shelter books” and full of pictures of wonderful homes and lives. I purchased most of them when I was in the antiques and collectibles business. Books full of lovely rooms and lovely ideas for decorating.

I always decorated my antiques' booth. I made vignettes with the things I had for sale so potential customers could see how things might look in their own home. It was actually quite a successful marketing ploy: customers bought the piece of furniture, and the tabletop vignette, too.

So why was I not more successful in my business? Two real reasons: I did it for fun, and I am a softie. If someone admired something I had refurbished and decorated, but couldn't afford it, I would usually lower the price. Not always, but when the customer really seemed smitten by something I certainly would.

I'm a people person, not a businesswoman, I guess....

I closed my business five years ago but the books have lingered. Like friends, they have weathered the good times and the bad times, silently sitting on the shelf, waiting for an opportunity to comfort, or entertain me.

Dusting my books has always been an all day chore. Yes, I have a lot of books, but that's not why. I lose myself, literally, in touching each book to dust it. I have to open each book and read and reread my favorite passages, or look fondly at the items displayed in the pictures.

And so, parting with books has been like parting with friends. It is not something to be taken lightly, or done without thinking about it. When did I get the book? What was going on in my life when I got it? Did the book offer some measure of comfort at that time? Or was it a means of escape from the real world?

I gave a lot of my childrens' books to Noelle. She is too old to read them, perhaps, but that's not why she wanted them. She likes to “play school” and she needed props. Now she has them. And I have a promise from her: she will not give them away without thought. She will find homes for them where they will be appreciated.

Some of the Golden Books I gave her have my name written in them, in my own childish handwriting. Others have her mother's name, or her uncles' names. They are pieces of the past as much as they are books. She understands that and will protect them. That's why I gave them to her.

As I looked through my “library,” finding candidates to send to Goodwill, I became aware that I have detached from some of the books. They were important, and very useful, in another phase of my life. They provided information that I needed at that time. Information that I don't need now.

So, just as books can be friends, some are only acquaintances. They were in my life for a purpose and that purpose is no longer. So now, they need to move on to new homes and new readers.

Somebody, somewhere, who needs a friend....