Libraries.
Everyone should have a library card. Myself, I am a nearly lifelong lover of the public library. I can remember being as young as six and going for story times; meeting other families for special events. It feels like yesterday I was wandering the colorful, brightly lit rows of children’s books eagerly choosing what to take home next. The library was one of the first places I learned about responsibility: my brother and I could choose any books we wanted, but we had to keep track of due dates and pay the late fees when we missed them. As the years passed, the sense of accomplishment as I walked in and turned right towards the adult books instead of back and left to the children’s room was palpable. I was now a “grown up.” In hindsight, I didn’t know at the time that this would be an ending I should also grieve.
But then, as life does, my relationship with the library came full circle. I brought my eldest daughter to story time as an infant. I watched her watch other kids with wide-eyed wonderment and learn about interacting with them for the first time. I pulled puzzle piece after puzzle piece away from her rapidly approaching open mouth.
Three years later I found myself up with a different baby in the lonely middle of the night (at the height of a pandemic, no less!) - the particular kind of quiet that only Moms of little ones and insomniacs know - bleary-eyed, desperately trying to stay awake, downloading a library to my Kindle in one hand while gently rocking my second born, nearly sleeping baby in the other.
Aside from the magic and peace that row upon row upon row of books brings, the library also provides a crucial public service to the community. Neighbors who can't afford internet at home can come to the library to use the computers. Neighbors who don't have a loving adult at home can come to the library after school and lose themselves in books. Neighbors who are homeless can come to the library to warm up on a cold day, or take shelter from the rain. Neighbors who are elderly can come to the library for companionship and a waiting newspaper. Neighbors who choose to or must stay at home can download books or access online resources. Neighbors who want connection can participate in one of any number of library programs. The library is a calming presence even in times wrought with stress and heartache. It is the bedrock of any community. It represents the last vestiges of a world that doesn't exist anymore, a center of the community where everyone is welcome.
And all of this exists in exchange for something as small as a library card.
Independent Bookstores.
I have spent the equivalent of an Ivy League tuition (or pretty close to it) on Amazon in my lifetime. Don’t get me wrong, the ease of clicking “add to cart” at 10:00 pm in my pajamas when I realize I have forgotten to purchase some absolutely crucial item and then have it be here in just two days is tantalizing.
But…
You knew there had to be a but.
I have not and will not purchase books on Amazon.
Despite my love of libraries, I do buy books. Always books I have already checked out from the library, read, and loved. It makes me so happy to have beloved books scattered around my home. But those books I buy always come from an independent bookseller. Brick and mortar booksellers are almost becoming an antiquated notion, and that makes me profoundly sad. There is nothing I enjoy more (and my credit card enjoys less) than going to an independent bookseller, wandering around, taking comfort in the sight and smell of the books. My particular favorite is Powell’s City of Books in Portland, OR - an absolute MUST VISIT for any book lover, and if you fly there, do yourself a favor and pack an empty suitcase in order to fly your books home. Oh and in case you’re wondering, Powell’s didn’t pay me or in any way entice me to include them on my web site. I just love that place that much.
