I took dad to the bookstore the other day.  He's always told me his books are his friends since he doesn't have any close friends.  The last time I took him there, he leaned on his cane as he crouched gingerly looking for books that would interest him.  He hated the cane and didn't want to use his walker.  He staunchly declared "I'm not like those other old folks."  I would suffer minor heart attacks as he shakily bent over and peer at the titles.  This time though, he came prepared with a list.  I was surprised.  We soon found a salesperson and my dad gave her the list.

The list was carefully written with his must have books by 10 authors.  He was also clear that if that book wasn't available, he would consider others.  The sales clerk looked at the list.  The first name was Albert Camus.  She asked "Albert Camus is the first author?"  "Yes, Alber-kamu", my dad gently corrected her (and me too).  She went to the computer and searched.  His handwriting was clear despite a couple of fingers gnarled by arthritis.  I see the others on the list  Descartes, Gibbon, Cicero and more.   While I recognized some of the names - the others were a mystery to me and I have already forgotten them by now.  I feel like such an illiterate idiot.  

Some of the books were at the store and some weren't.  She went to the shelves to get the books while we sat down and returned within a few minutes.  He got his prized "The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire - Volume 1 to 6".  I warned him that the price was a bit steep (over $150 for the 6 volumes).  But he said it's six books so it's not that bad.  I lugged the books with one hand, held his arm with the other and we both shuffled over to the cashier.  The bill was over $200.  He feigned surprise and hinted at a seniors discount.  I almost told the clerk that he buys these books with what's left from his measly pension.  He pulled out his Amex and signed it with a deep sigh.  But I knew he was almost giddy with joy. 

As soon as we got home, I put the books on the table by his chair.  Within minutes, he pounced on the first book.  I went off to the kitchen to make dinner for him.  During dinner, he told me about the author Edward Gibbon.  He practically gave me his bio.  I checked online afterwards and was it matched.  He has a lot of books so I asked him if he might already have these books somewhere.  He said he didn't.  He told me he came across an article about one of the books and realized how much he wanted to read them.  He said a lot of these books are classics that scholars have prized.  He was kicking himself for not getting these books earlier.  I keep thinking though that he probably has some of these books before.  But I didn't really mind.  I realized in some ways, this was his bucket list and he was happy getting these books.

He lamented to me that none of his neighbours were serious scholars and readers.  After dinner, I washed the dishes while he went back to the living room sofa to be with his new friends.

I feel as if I got a nice little coffee shop here in Xanga. Some days I'm open for business and people drop in. Of course,  I'll be the guy in the back room, with sunglasses and a disguise.  After all, I'm anonymous.  Most days (especially lately), the shop is closed but people still wander by to see if I'm around.  They will knock at the door, peer through the windows and wonder what is going on. 

It's a nice community here.  When I need support, you don't hesitate to give me encouragement, advice, a gentle nudge, a prayer or two, a pat in the back, a hug and a supporting shoulder to lean on.  Sometimes when I'm not blogging, I'll get a message or email asking if things are ok.  It's a wonderful and supportive gang here at Xanga. 

Despite not knowing who I am, you don't hesitate to cheer me on.  I don't know what to make of it sometimes.  I have nothing to compare it to in real life.  Sometimes in the middle of the day, I'll stop and wonder about certain folks in Xanga - especially if they are going through some tough times.  I wonder if they are coping with the challenges from life.  We know life can be unfair. 

Work has eased up just a bit.  After working almost 7 days a week for a few weeks, I'm starting to reduce my weekend hours.  The pressure at work continues.  Any mistakes that people make get amplified and distorted.  The culture of fear and pessimism is getting a foothold.  I try not to let it get to me but inevitably it does.  

But it's nice to know I have a lot of support here.  I'm thankful and grateful.