Yesterday, I went to the Miramar Library. Yes, I'm forcing myself to go back there and not rely on my Kindle so much (very, very hard to do).
I got out a book that was written by Marie Osmond (and her pal Marcia Wilkie). Pub April 2013.
When I saw the book on the shelf, when I took it down, when I got it checked out, I had no idea what the title was. Both the library ISBN number sticker and the Wellington City Council Libraries' sticker were plastered on the spine of the book ... and the front cover.
Because of the front cover sticker, the title now read "The Key ........ove". It must be 'The Key of Love", I figured. Oh, wait, perhaps, it was "The Key is a Dove". Or "The Key is Above"? Something about a glove?
I looked at the spine. The title read "The Key............", with the sticker blocking the last few words, so I wasn't any the wiser there. This sort of thing happens often. When my friends ask if I've read a certain book, I sometimes have no idea because I've chosen a library book for it's cover and author only. Titles are obscured a lot.
When I got home, I discovered from the frontpiece that the title was "The Key is Love". I had been pretty close, but - as my one American reader would no doubt tell me - ..... 'close but no cigar'.
It was a nice comforting book to read. One part truly resounded with me. Marie's mother was sick in hospital, struggling to talk and very weak (p.66). Marie was upset for her.
Olive, Marie's mother, managed to write on a notepad: "I love every breath I take."
Wow. I have decided to try to live by this creed. I am going to so enjoy the life that is ahead of me. My full determination may only last a month, or a week, perhaps even an hour, but from here on in, I have decided that there will always be, at a minimum, a little bit of enjoyment for life inside me. Because I'm a retiree I probably haven't got that many years ahead, but, goodness, right now I truly am hell-bent on loving every damn breath I take. Thanks, Olive.
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