Finding The Bond

My strongest addiction as a single was reading. Being alone was bliss and gave me ample time to devour as much literature as one could come by. I had very little care for what happened in other social spaces. 
When I got married some years ago I had fears my lifestyle might have some effect on my family bonding, so I chose family. I found a great partner in my wife and have bonded excellently with my kids. But my love for the books and writing have suffered tremendously.
A few months ago, I decided to return to reading​. If you were a reader you would know that if you've ever read a book that it has a way of reaching back to you whenever you saw the title.
Going through my shelve, I realized I could sense and recollect every book's content by a mere touch; these were old friends indeed. And it struck me I have not bought new ones in a while.
I have returned to reading, having made friends with the kids. I know they must sometimes wonder why Daddy suddenly has to stare for so long at these books nowadays.
"Daddy is reading," I would tell them whenever I had to cut my time with them to be with the books.
Today, my little girl (barely two years) walks in while I'm​ reading.
"Daddy are you reading?" She asks.
"Yes dear."
She quietly turns around and leaves. No hard feelings.
I am dazed by her show of understanding. I could hear her laughter as she plays with Grandma in the other room.
Somehow I can have my kids and my books. That's magic.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Letter to My Daugther

Another Mother's Child