I heard it said that when a person dies a library dies with them. Our family recently lost an immense library when my uncle died unexpectedly. His library of thoughts, experiences, knowledge, feelings, and ideas will be missed just as much as his physical person. We all learned from and enjoyed his library, whether it was sitting around the Thanksgiving table, walking along the beach, watching a Broncos game or huddled together in a tiny mountain cabin. He loaned to us freely: no use restrictions, no due dates, no copyright laws. His life was a library we visited many times, one that I myself spent 40 years in. It was a good library.
We are all libraries. Our lives are books of non-fiction that read like novels. We are collections of short stories; anthologies of poetry; tales of mystery and romance; dramas, comedies and tragedies; scientific texts; philosophical treatise; and spiritual meditations. The depth and nature of our collection is up to us; as long as we keep on living life, our collection keeps on growing.
My uncle's library is closed now, but he left us priceless works that we will continue to reflect upon and enjoy until that time when our own libraries close.
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