Bookshelf

Do you see the bookshelf in this picture? The one behind the children, one of whom is jumping in various states of dress and the other is manhandling an octopod?

That bookshelf, let me tell you of its significance. It was purchased at the IKEA in Hartford, Connecticut with our wedding money. We had returned from honeymoon and moved into our new lovenest and discovered a clear lack of organization in our abode. I lovingly organized all and sundry books and photo frames and created a thoughtful assemblage of possessions on display. This is the third home in which the bookshelf has lived and it continues to serve us well. It continues to be an emblem of our life together, our books living side by side just as we, husband and wife and daughter and son, live side by side in a harmonious and orderly fashion. Sometimes. Occasionally.

You might also note that the books are arranged by color and not by author or title because I am more inclined to know whether The Accidental Asian had a yellow book jacket rather than it was written by Eric Liu (synaesthesia much?).

The aesthetic of my system is not bad but I was recently convicted about the real problem in my method.

As I was dusting off the bookshelves this week, I began looking at all of the books that I knew I would never read again. Naturally, I didn't want to let them go quite yet. I know many people have this same reflex. But what if I need to go back and see what Joan Didion says about grief? And what if I give away this Curtis Sittenfeld first edition and it becomes, like, super valuable someday?

What really pained me, however, was my resistance to sell or gift books or donate them because of their utility as items that Say Something About Me. The point of a library is to enjoy it and lend it, no? Yet apparently I want to hoard books because they indicate...what? That I am well-read. That I am familiar with the canon of certain authors. That I have made a living teaching others how to analyze certain texts, and this is my trophy case of works upon which I can expound in a classroom.

So. Incredibly. Gross. I. Know.

Are we called to build totemic shelves of books that are a nod to Who We Are? Yeah, I think we are called to store up treasures in Heaven, by and large. I seem to remember something about not being able to take it with you, that a good name is worth more than rubies, that nobody at our funeral is going to be remarking about what an impressive collection of tomes we had amassed in this life.

From now on, I am going to do my utmost to be purging myself of these books lest I retain them to impress only myself.

***

I dropped off a dear Boston mama friend at a writer's conference today. I was so happy for her visit wherein we solved all the problems of the world in 24 hours and covered lots of eating and laughing ground to boot. En route to the conference, I told her to e-mail her publisher to make sure she had enough copies of her chapbook on hand. She was going to do it later, but I told her to do it right then and there to put her mind at ease.

As I saw her off at the conference to go write and read and overdose on poetry with literary luminati, I was so so happy for her. I felt a small pang of envy that I wasn't going to be staying on a college campus and writing my hands off and sleeping in a room with no bunkmates interrupting my sleep just like she.

But my friend Anna has a book that actually says Something About Her. She wrote it. It's awesome.

I am not there yet. I hope to be. For now, though, I am happy for my friend and happy for me and my life and my children and my bookshelves. The shelves are now slightly less bulky, but the rainbow effect is still gratefully in tact.

***

Anna, Baby Girl and I, cha cha cha-ing in #CHA

Anna met the King in Nashville, natch

Brief, Sweet, Important

The hairdresser said she was always happy to see me. She told me this today, before I had even had a proper blow-out.

She said with a sincere smile, "I'm always happy to see you."

I am a church worker. Trust, I am not her best tipper.

Plus, I've only been a client for less than a year.

She said she was always. Happy.

Always happy to see.

To see me.

It made my day.

Because, you know me.

I'm Irish, I drip with sarcasm.

I love hard, feel hard, and dismiss it all with a laugh and a gag.

I find it difficult to tell people who mean a lot to me that I'm always happy to see them.

I find it difficult to use the words "happy" and "always" and "see" in a sentence.

There's a liability there.

What if the person comes to let you down, and you're no longer happy, you no longer want to see her?

What if there might come a time when you can't see her?

Does that mean you won't be happy anymore?

That's the part that scares me.

I stepped out of that fear today, though.

I want to thank Meg You-Know-Who-You-Are of Hair-a-Go-Go who's always happy to see me.

She put her happy and always and see in a sentence.

She gave it to me without expectation.

And she gave me a killer set of highlights.

Then she left to go pick up her son at daycare because he had a fever.

I left looking better.

Feeling better.

Inside and out.

But really.

Let's be honest.

How could anyone NOT be happy to see ME?

Always.

A Sweet Little Story of Providence, in five parts

Part I. Last year, pending a major move, our sole car was on its last wheels. It was completely unreliable.  I once even drove to a friend's house with one of the doors of our car being held shut with DUCT TAPE. Numerous times I had to take a taxi in the snow with my infant and toddler to the Nanny's house and then take a taxi from the Nanny's house to work. Reverse, rinse and repeat when work was over.

We were praying for some kind of windfall because we just could not afford to buy a new vehicle. As in., we couldn't afford to buy a new wiper blade.

Part II.

My Nana Stanton, with whom I was very close, left me an inheritance. I thought it would just be some mad money, but in March of last year, I was cut a check for enough to buy a new car outright. I had never owned my own car before.

My benefactor:

Part III.

I felt a burning conviction in my heart to use the remnant of my inheritance to support young people and music. My nana had only a high school diploma but she was a brilliant singer and loved music and investing her time and energy into young people.

I called a children's choir in Boston that I had supported in the past; many of our neighborhood children were a part of this choir. I left a message indicating that I was interested in making a donation to their organization.

No one ever called back.

NO one.

Um, donor knocking! What non-profit would not answer the door?

I continued to pray about how I should use the money.

Part IV.

The Nanny that was watching the children had a granddaughter that she also cared for along with my children. Her granddaughter, Z, was very special to us and showed tremendous promise with her violin--at the prodigious age of 4!  Our nanny asked us if we knew of any scholarships available to support her granddaughter doing a summer program at Berklee College of Music.

I went home and asked Loverpants what he thought.

Part V.

Z went to Berklee on a full ride. I'm sharing this not to inflate my contribution or stroke my own conceit. I felt the money wasn't mine in the first place; I was just a steward of it. I just wanted to do right by someone who was so incredibly good to me.

Oh, but there's more.

I just received an e-mail from Z's mother. Here's an excerpt:

Kendra, I hope you all are doing well. I see Tate's getting very big these days along with Maddie . I was reflecting on what Z was doing last year and where she has been since and i just could not help thanking God for the blessings...Sending her to Berklee was such an amazing opportunity for her. While at Berklee we met another lovely soul who runs a violin camp and told us to come along and join then at her camp. Since then Z has completed a Eurhythmics class and started playing cello for a month now. After this she will go to a program called Project step. The woman we met at berklee last year called me a month ago and told me that Z was all set to go to Berklee. I did not even fill out a form or pay any tuition yet. I asked her what do u mean Z is all set to go? she said Z is going tuition free because God just does things like that. He is just that kind of God! I cant think you enough for letting God use you and giving Z a chance to play her little violin...Your blessing for her had poured over in many areas in her life and i just wanted to say THANK YOU !! Sorry for the long message but i HAD to let you know what a blessing it had been for us over the last year. God bless and please send our love to Maddie and Tate!