Everyone of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we will never get back again. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads, there's a little room where the memories are stored. It's like our own personal library. And to understand the workings of it,we have to make new reference cards,dust things off once in a while, let in fresh air& change the water in the flower vases.
I savored this particular paragraph, inhaling them through my eyes bit by bit, only moving on to the next word when I felt that I've fully grasped the idea of what it is trying to educate the reader.
And then, I applied them to myself
Fits perfectly.
This appeared in the last few pages of the book.
And, I read it slowly, a little too slowly in fact, because I'm afraid the book might end.
And thinking of the book ending, and how I'm responding to it, it led me to a conversation I had with someone.
My tear glands are too proud. I don't release/show emotions which might deem me as weak.
But if i wasn't like that, I'd have teared.
I could feel the sourness swallowing me whole.
And then it was as if the book spoke to me,
a little room where the memories are stored own personal library
feelings we will never get back again
It was as if the book spoke out loud to me, saying. 'Hello Jacqueline, welcome to Memory Lane.'
It was as if I was walking down the section of Jodi Picoult which I used to, but it serves no purpose because there's nothing for me to look forward there until maybe, another story is written.
But for now, I'll continue walking down other lanes.