Some people when they chose to retire, they start to paint. When my dad retired, he became a thespian. He started to perform in local shows and had a blast doing it. He also became a DJ for his community radio station.
My mom and dad were also great advocates of literacy and reading. My mom was a volunteer in the NYC Library who worked with children on their reading skills. Both of them volunteered at a NJ elementary school to help children to read. They made it fun and and from all accounts, were popular with the young children.
Not only did they help with reading skills they were themselves avid readers and that carried over to my entire immediate family. After sharing dinner together, all of us would disappear to our favorite corner of the house. My Mom and Dad could be found in the family room, Dad on his favorite chair, my Mom on the couch. My Grandmother would read at the kitchen table. My brother and I would be up in our respective rooms.
There were no eBooks back then. We had physical books that we generally picked up every other week from the library. The library was one of my favorite destinations. There’s a particular hush in a library that feels sacred—not silent, but expectant. It’s the sound of possibility of stories waiting to be found. Of minds lingering in quiet communication with words.
I’ve always loved old things, and the library is full of them, books with softened spines, faded checkout cards, and the scent of paper that’s lived a life. You go in looking for one thing and leave with three others you didn’t know you needed.
To this day the library is one of my favorite places to go. Sometimes I wander the stacks without a plan, letting titles call to me like old friends. A novel with a cover that reminds me of a book I once loved. Cookbooks where I find ideas for meal planning or Do Dad Dinners.
The Monroe Township Library meant so much to my parents—they were regulars, familiar faces in every corner. At one point, the library even asked them to make a PSA. I hadn’t watched it in years but revisiting it now felt like opening a time capsule. I wanted to share it with you—not because it’s polished or profound, but because it’s joyful. Here is the link Monroe township library. I thought I would share it with you. Another example of my Dad expressing his thespian side.
I also want to recommend a book that I enjoyed, The Library, by Susan Orleans a captivating blend of true crime, history, and personal reflection that centers around the devastating 1986 fire at the Los Angeles Central Library. I found it to be a love letter to libraries and to the people who keep them alive.
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