Taken away....

The other day I was in a used book store. One of those stores that specializes in old books, you know the type of store, they all have that smell… the smell of the past. It’s dust, and damp, age and secrets… the smell of tombs and treasure. These are dreams hidden away in labyrinth of shelves.

And on the counter, a book, an afterthought, waiting to be put away… was book that caught my eye. “Cape Cod Folk – A Novel” It was a book about a trial, set down the cape, written in the late 1800’s. It held no desire for me… this was not a book I’d read.

But for a moment it took me away. And I thought of my dad. I would have bought this for him for Christmas. I could see it all… the stocking with the book nestled snugly inside the title peeking out, with a pair of warm black gloves beside it.

Suddenly it was Christmas, at the old house, the house I grew up in. There was never such a house as this for Christmas. The house was built for Christmas. The fireplace with the window above the mantle. So you can watch the snow and the fire at the same time. There was an alcove to the side of the fireplace, where we’d put the tree. We used to cut our own trees and they were widely regarded as sparse, “Charlie Brown” Trees. They were big wide natural trees deep with hollows for hiding away ornaments, toys and candy.

And suddenly I was happy to be thinking about my dad, and Christmas. I felt so warm and happy, and lucky. Lucky to have such memories, lucky to have seen something that reminded me of my father… just lucky.