I was in my "bunker" the other day--which i ought to explain before i say what i intended to say... (years ago when i worked in a school for handicapped young adults, one of the shop teachers made a wooden plaque for me and woodburned into it: [my name]'s Bunker. over the next 20 years it always found a place in whatever office i happened to be working in; now in my relifement, it sits atop one of the 3 bookshelves in my little art/study room.)
...so, as i was in my bunker for Bible study i reached for 2 old books that my dad gave me back in the 80's when i mentioned to him that i really enjoyed the g.campbell morgan commentaries. he had gone upstairs (to 1 of HIS many bookcases---gee, where did we all get our love of books from?) and he brought to me 2 old books that he happened to have in his library, by that same commentator. one book is dated 1944 (ok, i confess. i had to ask B to help me decipher the roman numerals), and the other is dated 1909. that alone, in ADDITION to the fact that these were books from my dad's own library, makes them of value to me. BUT! guess what makes them even MORE valuable? dad has penciled his notes in the margins in one of them!!!
Dad has been rejoicing in Heaven with our Lord for the past 12 years, but i felt very close to him when i turned the page in one of his old books (The Triumphs of Faith) and read his notations! it brought back such pleasant memories of when dad used to take my brother and i with him to Leary's Bookstore in downtown Philadelphia. leary's is no longer there, but was a tall, very narrow building with many stories, sandwiched between 2 larger buildings, much like a tall book itself perched on the shelf of sidewalk. how we LOVED going in town with dad to leary's! we rode the old elevator up to the floor with all the used books. on special days, he'd have an extra 10 or 25 cents and would buy us a poetry book, some of which i still have. we'd spend hours in there amongst the dusty, yellowed page books, the aroma of which could only be construed if you've ever smelled that wonderful scent. it would be like trying to describe the wonderful smell of a box of crayons--the person would only understand if they too, loved and recalled that pleasing smell and the memories it brought to mind.
dad left his mark in this book, and with much JOY i can truly and thankfully say, that dad left his mark on me as well. what a dad! what a dear dad.