Last night David and I went to a movie instead of putting the kids to bed. (But that's a post for another day.)
So this morning Olivia quietly said, "I finished my book last night, Mom."
"Oh, Livy." (I knew it was the last one in the Laura Ingalls series.)
The tears ran down her cheeks.
"Are you a little bit heartbroken?"
She nodded and we sniffed a little together.
This is the sweetest kind of sorrow...the hot, tender heart in your chest as you read the last page in a book that has become your friend.
Bereft and grateful, at the same time.
In love and full of grief.
There is really nothing like a good book. And nothing quite like the vulnerable, lonely, poignant feelings of it being over. I told her that all my favorite books make me cry when they're over.