Reading

It’s almost 14 years since I was knocked out. Fourteen years since I lost my career, my job, my house, my home and my mind. Another thing my injury took from me was reading. I loved to read from a very young age. Through books I’ve lived hundreds of lives in hundreds of places. Just one more page. I’ll stop at the end of this chapter. The book closes in 15 more minutes. It’s three in the morning. I have to get up in three hours. Okay, I’m going to sleep now…as soon as I finish this paragraph. Following my injury I’d forget the story as I read it. Once the book was closed I couldn’t remember what the story was about or even the title. I was heartbroken. Reading was limited to short magazine articles. Losing reading hurt. Last month a friend handed me a book on the life of Leonard Cohen. I let it sit on the self. What was the sense in reading something I’d forget before I reached the end? At last I couldn’t resist. Wanting to learn about Cohen’s life over powered me and I picked up the book. I quickly realized reading was back. I remembered what I’d read. I became lost in the pages. Just one more page. I’ll stop at the end of this chapter. The book closes in 15 more minutes. It’s three in the morning. I have to get up in three hours. Okay, I’m going to sleep now…as soon as I finish this paragraph. Now I am reading a book about the life of Jim Henson. I stopped reading long enough to post this. Back to the book.