Today I helped a friend clean out the house where she had raised her family. She's in her 80s now, the kids have their own families, and her husband passed away several years ago.
After his death, my friend had moved into a small condo. The family home remained in her name, mostly empty of furniture but not quite ready to be sold.
The kids and grandkids recently decided that it's time to finish the job - and that meant sorting through remaining papers and knick-knacks and dishes.
Her husband had gone to seminary later in life and was a voracious reader - so this sweet lady wanted me to look through his library and take any of the books which I might find useful.
I took at least a hundred for myself and had to pass over hundreds more. There was no time or energy to find those unclaimed books a new home.
So they went into a dumpster. Over a thousand books. Billions of words. Countless ideas.
It was hard to witness.
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