I'm still thinking about this story and now realize that I didn't post about a very special part of the book for me.
pg 110 - 111 "She wants to know if the world in which she lives, this place she is using herself up everyday, will remember anything of her.Will the buildings that she has carefully studied, walked through, touched-will they recall her footsteps, the weight of her body on the steps, the smooth flat of her hand on the banister? Will the cobblestones hold her footfall? Will the river of rain remember the shape of her body?"
My sister lives in a house that is over 125 years old. The house has its original wood plank flooring, huge thick banisters, tall floor to ceiling pocket doors that separate rooms, and I cant help but find myself always wondering about the people, the families that have come before her in this house. About how they must have lived and cared for their property. Their kids running up and down the stairs, hands gripping and sliding along the beautiful banisters. These are thoughts that occupy my mind.
Also, I have a favorite place that my family has vacationed at since at least 1940. My granddad (I never knew him) was also chief of police in this town and I have been told stories of how he upheld the law in those days. More importantly, especially now that my dad is gone, when there I found myself thinking about how I was sitting on the rocks that my family have climbed and played on for many decades, the sand that we all ran through and played in, the cottages that held all our memories, both happy and sad. It gives me a warm feeling to know that I am physically touching a part of the past that holds imprints of my loved ones both here and gone.
Maybe a sentimental old fool (lol) but I love stuff like this.