Signed, Sealed & Delivered

I welcomed “old friends” home this week when 7 boxes of books arrived from Chicago storage.

I first wrote about my sister’s concerns years ago. "You talk about the books as if they're friends," she had said, pausing before adding, "They're just books. You're clear about that, right?"

My sister is a wise attorney, 13 months younger; I had nodded. This wasn't the first time she had voiced polite concern about my obsession with the books I began collecting when we were in junior high school.

Photo by Donna B. Pierce

Since then, I’ve gathered books based on a shortlist of reasons. Half of my collection relates to history, spirituality and biography. The other half includes cookbooks, which my sister had described as “no longer useful.”

"Give me two minutes on the Internet, and I can find 100 pasta recipes using shrimp," she had written in the note attached to a dozen passed-down cookbooks permanently retired from her kitchen bookshelf.

That’s when I called to remind her about our favorite childhood quote we had both memorized from "The Velveteen Rabbit,” by Margery Williams.