A Truly Bad Day Indeed

My mom was a voracious reader and read books to me when I was little. One of her favorites was Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. She read this one so often that I remember the feel of her arms around me, the smell of Georgio perfume, the humor in her narrating voice, and our united laughter over the gum in Alexander's hair or the travesty of railroad train pajamas.

When Mom went to the rest home two years ago, I found a copy of Alexander on her shelf. It wasn't the same one she read to us as kids, it was a recent buy. The cover had a "30th Anniversary" sticker. I was touched to think that Mom had been at the book store and remembered with fondess reading to her children. Since she'd bought the book so recently, it was likely one of the last of her memories to linger. I took the book home and kept it on a safe place on my book shelf. I brought it down often to read with Nicky and Andy. They loved to laugh over the car sick, Lima bean hating boy who wants to move to Australia.

I must have read the book a lot lately because somehow it got mixed in with the stack of seventeen library books I returned to the library last week. I didn't realize it was gone until we found the true library book under the couch. I searched through the stacks of books in the bookshelf hoping to be wrong. I wished the "donated" book would be any but the one I thought it was. Finally, I came to the sickening conclusion that I was right. I headed to the library in hopes of finding the book. The librarian looked quickly in the front desk and directed me to the sale shelf. She said if they still had it, it would be there. I felt so helpless as I looked through the worn out books. I knew it was gone. They only charge 1.00 for hard cover books and my copy had been so new and cared for.

I tried to hide the stinging tears. Somehow the lost book reminded me of all the feelings associated with that stupid disease, Alzheimer's. I stand helpless and my book is sold and I stand helpless while the disease takes my mom from me. It stinks. Yes I could buy a new book, but it's not the same one she bought and remembered. There are so many good things in life but there's nothing nice about losing a mother. It's truly rotten.

I also knew it was a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day when the librarian informed me that I owe the library $1.50 for the late book (the one I found under the couch). Owe them? Crappy!