I have my own personal librarian. Her name is Betty and I remember her extension by the highway of the same name--355. Betty brings books to me at home as a part of the "homebound program" whose title is self explanatory. A service for shut-ins. There's a term I haven't heard in forever.
Before I was a teen, a piece of mail was delivered to my house asking for employment or help for "shut-ins". There was a picture of a pitiful looking man perhaps laying in bed and because of my youth, lack of knowing about life and what can happen to one during it, I laughed at the picture and the ad. I may have done more than laugh at it, perhaps respond to it and not in a kind way. It comes back to me in bits and pieces. It was a letter from this man asking for something. And all I could do was laugh. Talk about Karma. I remember something else that I think I laughed at which has also come and bit me in the butt. It was a book of matches that said "Made by the Handicapped" and when opened, the matches were mangled and broken. Yes, that was funny to me.
So was the Christmas Card I bought in Old Town over my first Christmas Break home from college. It was a picture of Santa hanging on the cross. Inside it said "Let's put Christ back in Christmas". I actually mailed that card to some friends. At the time I thought the card extremely irreverent and edgy. My mom looked at it and said something like "Oh, Kimmy........." but now i realize it wasn't irreverent. It was to the point and true. It wasn't something disrespectful to Jesus, but against over buying and forgetting the real meaning of Christmas. Why didn't I see that then? Maybe I did and have forgotten. There is a big chance of that actually.
So I have my own library lady and its great. I've just finished several short novels by Elizabeth Berg who grew up in the sixties as I did. I believe Amy will enjoy some of these books also and so I ordered some on tape for her today. God bless Amy. That's all I will say now because saying it brings tears to my eyes. I am proud of how she is maturing and dealing with what life has dealt her. She is at camp for eight weeks now, coming home every other weekend. She told me she hoped I didn't feel bad when she told me she does not miss me. I told her that's exactly how a well adapted person feels and that she is exactly that. If all goes as planned she will be leaving home within a couple of months to live in a group home with other adult women. She is ok with it and knows she must strike out on her own away from home to make her own new home. But I worry about evenings and tv and who will tell her what's on and when and who will watch with her? And i worry about everyting else about her care: what she will wear and how will she look, and who will make sure she looks ok, and who will make the bed comfy and clean, and keep her parts clean? and it goes on and on and I realize that I'm the one who's really in for the change..............yep its hard at this end.
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