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.