1 a : to get away
Sometimes I just want to get away. There's not a consistent prompt for my desire for escape. It's not that I hate my life (love it, in fact). But I do long to get away. And while that is an impossibility this time of year when taken literally, I have known for years that the cheapest, best, most exciting vacations lie between the covers of a book.
Earlier this week, I was somewhat weepy, mopey and out of sorts. I had an ache in the center of my chest and longed for a good emotional outpouring. And I knew just the book. It's the sixth book in a series that's been out for a while, but I had been saving it for just the right moment. You see, it's the kind of book I know I'm going to voraciously consume once I start it. This series is not high art, it's more Entertainment Weekly than The New Yorker. But I love the characters. I love the way they love each other and how the book just sucks me in and carries me along.
Unfortunately, my desire for this book hit on a Sunday night when the library (and all bookstores) were already closed. Monday was then filled with chores that needed doing after time away from home for Thanksgiving. So I didn't make it to the library to get a copy of the book. I tried. I called J and had him check to see if the branch library nearby had a copy. It didn't. And I couldn't make it to one of the branches that had the book before closing time. So I figured I'd wait another day.
J had other ideas. When I came home Monday night, dragging three tired girls behind me, the book was sitting on the dining room table. Not a library copy. My very own paperback copy.
To say that I was grateful doesn't quite cover it. I had tried to explain to J the ache I was feeling and my desire to assuage it with a book. He clearly heard me. And the beauty of being married to a reader is that he got it. He understood how the right book at the right time is better than an all expenses paid vacation to the Bahamas. I was so surprised, so touched that I cried as I thanked him.
And I've hardly put the book down since. I've read at night, in the car, while I eat my lunch, when I should be doing other things. I'm over 400 pages in (which still leaves over 1,000 to go with this book) and it is just the escape that I wanted and needed. And how blessed am I to have a husband who bought me the ticket for my escape?
3 comments:
Love this post! I am taking a break from this series and saving this one for just such a time for me . . .
mr. darcy has done this for me. i'm also grateful for the times he lets me read and read and read without telling me what i need to be doing instead. i'm not nearly as merciful to him. though i do certainly read books to escape, i don't think i'm always as honest with myself about the mode of escape as you are....but i can actually think of particular difficult events in my life and what i was reading at the time to help in the down moments...
You guys are so beautiful. It's so wonderful when your friends' husbands treat their wives with passion and understanding. We look forward to getting to know him, too!
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