A Bit Of Magic

First off, let me say that this blog has not been what I expected it to be. I thought I'd blog about art--which I've done little of, but maybe I will--and thought I'd blog very little about my mom. I certainly didn't expect so many grief blogs and yet that's what I seem to write about most. All I can say is that she heavily influenced my life and still does. I guess that's part of it, too...when I'm not missing her like crazy, I'm caught up in the magic of still feeling connected to her.

A few days ago, I was sorting through books, looking for the next volume in a mystery series. While I kept most of her book collection, Mom would be quick to point out that I have not kept them in good order. She went to a lot of trouble to sort by author and subject. With me, well, books are lucky if they get back on a shelf and not just in a stack on the floor or, worse, under my bed. (I think that's where my copy of Quiet: The Power of Introversion is, though I haven't been brave enough to look for it just yet.)

Anyway, I was looking for the next book in a mystery series, and came across The Grass Dancer by Susan Power. What struck me was how worn it was. Granted, it's a paperback, but to be that worn, she must have read it a dozen times. And actually I remember seeing it on her bed, or in her hand, or on the shelf, but I don't remember us ever discussing it. Maybe we did and maybe she encouraged me to read it, but....I just don't remember it.

So I started reading it and fell in love with this novel set on the Sioux reservation with multiple points of view, including several generations of women in one family, and laced with magic.

I admit it's been bittersweet. I keep wishing I had read it years ago, so I could have discussed it with her. On the other hand, mostly I feel like I've stumbled upon a gift.