Comfort

This is not how I intended to inaugurate this blog, but on Wednesday, my family lost a beloved pet.  Sam was a 9 year old German Shepherd we’d raised from a puppy.  He was my younger brother’s dog first and foremost, but we all loved him and cared for him, and he loved all of us.  He was older, arthritic, cranky at the new puppy, but still as loyal and affectionate as ever to the end.  He communicated with us primarily through a diverse vocabulary of groans, moans, and sighs.  He never needed a leash, though he would get excited when he saw one since he knew it meant walk time.  He loved to play with rocks – chewing on them, attacking them, or pulling them out of a lake.  He wasn’t big on cuddling, but he sure did love to be right by his people (sometimes underfoot) and would often follow us around the house or yard.  He was extremely smart, brave, and sweet-natured.  I could go on and on about what a fantastic dog he was.  Suffice it to say that we are heartbroken, and missing him already.

When I got the news, I cried of course.  A lot.  I went for a walk.  And then I abandoned the Advanced Reader’s Copy of a book that I had been devouring, and turned to my bookshelf.  In hard times, I always turn to books, and always books I already know and love.  The need is so compelling I feel like I hardly have a choice.  I can always find a book to suit my mood and give me the escape I need.  Nothing immerses me and takes me away from my sorrow like a book.  And there are several wonderful comfort books on my shelves.

These books are not always just “comfort” reading.  What makes  them comforting is that they are, by and large, my favorite books.  I love them already, I have already read them over and over, yet every time I pick them up – for fun or as a salve for hurt – I fall into them just as quickly and easily as the last time.  This, for me, is what makes them comforting – the fact that I can always immerse myself, no matter how many times I’ve read them.  On Wednesday, I picked up Sunshine, by Robin McKinley.  This is a book that definitely makes it onto my list of top five favorite books, one I am always wanting to re-read, and one that successfully distracted me – at least for a little bit – from what I was feeling.  I also looked at Tamora Pierce and Jane Austen books, but Sunshine won out this time, and absolutely gave me what I needed.  Another reliable favorite is The Picture of Dorian Gray.  I remember a night in college when, emotional and sobbing after a fight with a roommate, I picked up Dorian Gray at four in the morning and began to read.  And it soothed me.  I have read that particular book so often, I can’t remember when it was a treat in times of joy, when it was a balm in times of pain, and when I picked it up just because I couldn’t wait to read it again – I have used it so many times for so many reasons.

There is so much more to these favorites, and the others I have picked up over time to drown my sorrows in, than just being comfort books.  But they have always come through for me when I am hurting.  And I am so grateful right now to be a reader, and have these wonderful, comforting volumes waiting for me when I need them most.