Turning Old Pages

I have just taped closed the last box of books to move.  At last count, I have 976 books in my catalogue, though 93 of those are listed as donated and 9 are in the form of e-books.  My brother was very interested in how carefully I boxed the books, checking them against my card catalogue and noting which box each book went it.  I saved out 14 books to tide me over the estimated 70-120 days for delivery.  I am not sure that is enough to get me through the possible 4 months, but with a (very nice) gift of a kindle and a new-to-me public library in my new hometown, I think I'll survive until my old friends arrive.

I am very excited for the move and giddy with anticipation of my new life and finally being a true grown-up.  But at the same time, I cannot entirely give up my old life, and my books are too much a part of me to even consider leaving behind.  I carefully went through each book, holding each in my hand, turning them over, flipping the pages, noting the nicks and dings on the spines and covers, pausing on the illustrations as I turned each page.  I was reacquainting myself with each and every old friend, both for my own peace of mind and to let them know, my library is a living, breathing, sentient, growing body, that they are loved and cared for, and they would not be forgotten.  I am really having the hardest time at boxing my books and entrusting them to someone else's care for up to 4 months.

I do not have room for 976 books in my new house, though to be truthful, I might as well -- no one would have guessed I had that many (and more) squirreled away in my 8 x 10 bedroom -- but I could not leave anymore than I did.  My books are my treasure, and it must be closely guarded and gently handled.