A Sentimental Journey Through the Bookcases

Dear John,

 

I wasn't the only one wanting to cuddle last night - the dog slept for a couple of hours cuddled up next to me. After he went back to his usual spot (the foot of the mattress on your side of the bed), I slept the rest of the night with my hand in that dip your shoulder made in  the mattress. Your family missed you.

 

I spent most of the day working in the basement. I got my work area fixed and reorganized all of the bookcases. Or thought I did, until I was working on the island and found my stack of church history books. I'll get them organized on the empty shelf later this week.

 

I had quite a sentimental journey through the bookcases. There are the stuffed animals you gave me in college, and the little plaque we bought for our first apartment. And your chess set and books are still there - I haven't found a home for them yet. There has to be a chess student among our friends. I remember where all of our books came from. Some we gave to each other, some were from our seminary years, some from college. Our type of humor shows - Doonsberry, Calvin & Hobbs, Bloom County. We've always laughed at the same things, and often studied the same things. The golf and chess books were all yours, though, and the gardening and Lizzie Borden books were all mine. But we were always interested in each other's interests; neither one of us would have ever dreamed of telling the other that we didn't want to hear about something. If chess wasn't interesting to me, your interest in it was.

 

What can I say? I've adored you since the first day I met you. I still love you, adore you, and worship the ground you walk on,

Joan.