Mom and I walked to the bookstore the other night.
Books have been central to my family always. A vacation means tossing 4 or more books in a bag and weekly trips to the library were a childhood tradition.
It is funny now because reading is harder for Mom but she still does a lot of it, even when she rereads the same page or chapter time and again. There was one book I saw her reading for more than a month. (Which makes less sense for someone with zero responsibilities and days with nothing but time.)
But Mom still reads. So we walked to the bookstore and picked up a few new books. She was delighted even though I have a strong suspicion that one of our purchases is something she previously read. Mom suggested a book for me titled How to Be an American Housewife, which she found humorous as a choice for me.
As we were leaving she told me that she would like to buy all the books in the store and bring them home. I loved her exuberance. It is wonderful to see Mom still find joy in things that are core to how she lived her life and how she and I have so often connected.