Used Books

Lately I've become a sort of a bibliophile, I guess my husband is influencing me. He has a collection that could rival a small country library. Each week I pay a visit to a local thrift store to pick up a "new" book to read for .50 to a $1.00.   It takes a little bit of time to puruse the piles of discarded books and find something I'm actually interested in reading: these are used books after all.  Once I've made my selection & purchase I bring the "new" books home and they sit on my bedside table until I make my way down the stack.  

For years I read non-fiction: self help types books (how to be a better... wife, mother, etc), for a while I was really into biographies.  For the past 2 years (other than my educational FTD reading) I've been pretty dedicated to fiction.  Though technically the book that inspired this blog is a memoir. 

Why do I love used books?  It's simple: the notes & underlined passages.  Once I had a book that had been used/read at least two times previously.  The first reader made notes in pencil - the follow up reader used black marker.  Not only did the second reader cross out the first reader's thoughts, but made rude comments on how stupid they thought reader one was.  As if reader one would ever get that copy back & know somewhere out in the universe a second reader thinks they're dumb. 

Still I love the comments & underlines.  It offers insight as to what someone who's gone before thinks.  You are both experiencing the same thing: reading the same book; I find it fascinating to compare our reactions to the same passage.  Why did the previous reader think a certain passage was so deep and insightful to merit an underline?  I didn't think it was underline worthy. 

What does this have to do with my daddy's FTD?  There are times we're experiencing something together and I totally "get it."   I know what he's talking about, why he's emoting the way he is, what's making him tick: I understand the notes in his margins.  There are other times when I'm left blank.  It's as if he's made notes in the margins of his life & underlined events that are of great importance to him and I'm just an outside viewer left completely confused. 
I wish there was a way to know.  People think you can just ask him, but many times you can't.  The kicker about this disease is at times there is no logic, no sense, no reason: it just is what it is.