Letting Go

(Part 1 of 2)

The weekend began with the loss of a set of encyclopedias.

A set of encyclopedias is a lot of books. I mean, there's what...26 letters in the alphabet? Plus an index. So 27 books. You'd think it might be hard to lose 27 books. 

It’s not.

These encyclopedias were not just any encyclopedias. In a world before google, they were the answer to just about any question a kid could come up with. They were hours of play between two sisters imagining themselves in one of the many fashion periods that developed from the beginning of society to present day society. Pictures on those pages were circled and labeled with pencil according to what my sister and I decided belonged to whom that day. (There was fierce competition over a green, southern-belle type dress.)

They had an entire section on fairy tales. You know - those stories that tell the same story over and over again in a hundred different ways? Curse sets the stage, person + trial = the producing of (or revealing of) true character, good conquers, true love and eternal happiness to close. Made up stories - with that much truth in them - are just the best.

There was also the flag section. It had pictures of every national flag known to mankind at that time. Captions telling the stories behind the symbols chosen on each flag showed so much variety, so much originality, and yet so much in common between all these peoples all over the world. And there they were, laying side by side on a few pages that I could hold in my hands. So far I’ve only given some highlights of the “F” volume. 

It was my Favorite. 

;)

In the “B” book were birds of every color, size, and shape. I could learn about the anatomy and physiology of the ear and the eye in “E”. So many books, so much information. I even remember reading an article about hiccups. Hiccups?? That’s pretty necessary-for-life information right there! 

These encyclopedias were seemingly endless information at my fingertips. And yet something I could contain. Portals to other worlds. Marked up. Outlined. Corners folded. Made mine.

I have a two-year old niece. Hands down she is the best two year old currently walking the planet and it is absolutely amazing to rediscover the world through her eyes. One day she and I are with “Nana”(my mom) at my parent’s place. And so is a lizard. This lizard is caught, placed inside a plastic container with a clear lid, holes are poked, and it’s now ready for viewing. The only problem is Cora isn't ready to view. She wants to be though. So badly. Knees to a chair, her hands on the table, the lizard in the container on this same kitchen table, Cora leans in with curiosity. The lizard moves and Cora screams. Loudly. Her eyes immediately fill with tears and her face immediately wells up. I comfort her, she calms down, and then, like any self-respecting two-year old, she does it again. And again. Pretty soon the conflict between her curiosity and her fear was breaking my heart. Then I remember! This is my parent's place. This is the place with the loft, that has a bookshelf, that holds a set of encyclopedias, that has a specific book for “L”inside of which I knew I could find a lizard. The non-moving type. So I run upstairs to grab it. It’s not there. L is gone. And R. So no reptile section either. Every last lovely lettered book is gone. No big deal. My mom reorganizes things

....sometimes...

"Mom, where are the encyclopedias?" I'm not exactly asking nonchalantly. My mom can hear that extra decibel of worry in my voice.

"Oh honey, I gave them away." I screamed. Loudly. My eyes immediately filled with tears, and my face immediately welled up. 

Well. Not really. But inwardly I cringed and I wanted to have a Cora-like response in that moment.

My mom is an incredibly good person. She has qualities of compassion, mercy, and service. She is patient, gentle, and humble. And then there’s her quality of cleanliness that - when combined with the quality of generosity - means giving things away. Routinely. To Goodwill.

This meant for the next hour I was having phone conversations like this:
    
      What was said:                                       How it was said:

GW "Goodwill, how can I help you?"             (This is my job and I am a robot.)


Me "I'm looking for something that was        (Voice cracking)
accidentally donated to you guys. It's     
been in the family for over 20 years..
        

GW "Ok, what are you looking for?"                (I have a heart and I want to help you.)

Me "It's a set of encyclopedias."               (Sniff and other obvious noises of choking 

back tears)

GW "Encyclopedias?"                       

   ( ....  )

     

(I no longer have a heart/ I really might be a robot/Let me introduce you to the internet)

                                                

I might have genuinely confused a few Goodwill employees that day. After all those calls, as well as personal store searches, I had to come to grips with the fact that these encyclopedias were irretrievable now. And hopefully making some kid somewhere very happy.

It truly is so hard for me to convey through words on a screen how sad this whole thing made me. I cry whenever I think long enough about it. 

And it was only the beginning of that weekend.

continued on next post...