The Empty Shelves

John sat on his chair reading an old book. He was reading Jane Eyre. John was an older gentleman of 86 years. He loved reading in his study. In fact, it was one of his favorite places. He could sit down and read for hours on end without being interrupted. The room would have been very big if it was not for the large number of books that sat on the shelves covering almost every wall. John had been a scholar of sorts at some point. He was always looking for something new to learn. Half of the books in his library had not even been touched by him.

‘How long might it take me to read all of these?’ He wondered to himself. That was when he heard a knock on the door. ‘Come in.’ he said. In walked his wife, Laura, with a cup of coffee in her hand and her magazine in her other. She sat down on the chair next to him. They had been together almost 60 years. She was the love of his life. They sat there together for some time, the morning sun lighting the room where they read.

John woke up. He had not been sleeping but he found himself in a different chair. There was a type of sorrow in the air. He looked around. He was still at his house but there were so many people. ‘Why are they all crying?’ he wondered. He turned around and saw a picture of a beautiful woman. The mingled voices of the people were deafening. John saw that they were all wearing black clothes. ‘What are all of these people doing in my house?’

A woman probably about 40 years old came up to him. Her eyes were watering and she hugged him. He did not understand why she was hugging him but she seemed like she needed it, so he hugged her back. She sobbingly said something about how she was going to miss someone. John just nodded his head in sympathy. He still didn't know what was happening but he knew someone who was hurting when he saw them.

The man talked to John in a firm but comforting voice. John had no idea what he was talking about. John asked the man to reiterate what he had said previously. The man said ‘The will and testimony of your wife state that her children should put you in a nursing home. Do you agree with this?’

‘Nursing home?’ John asked. ‘Who said I needed to go to a nursing home?’

‘Father?’ said a distant voice from up the stairs. ‘Is there anything else that you might want before we leave?’

John stood there bewildered. ‘What was happening?’ he thought to himself. He was in a different room than that lawyer's office. ‘I don't understand what is happening’. There was a fear that was flowing through his body. He did not even know how he got there. ‘Why can’t I remember anything?’

He looked towards the wall and saw the same picture of the beautiful woman from earlier. ‘Who are you?’ he wondered, sitting down. He looked around him. It was so dark in the room he had not been able to take in his surroundings. It was a dark room filled with shelves. There were no books or items of any kind on them. ‘How sad for a shelf to be without its books’ he thought to himself.

There was a knock on the door. In came a young man. ‘Father’ he said through teary eyes. ‘Do you remember father?’

‘Remember what?’ John said. He had never seen this man before. He had never even seen this room before.

‘Father’ the man started. ‘Father I am your son, and you see this woman here?’ the man pointed to the picture of that beautiful woman. ‘That's your wife, and my mother’.

John remembered. He remembered the light from the window shining on Laura’s face, the warm smell of coffee in the air, and all of the books he had planned on reading. Laura never cared for his books. ‘All too boring’ she would say. ‘She was always the more adventurous one’ John thought to himself half laughing half crying. He felt like he was going mad. The memories were there just temporarily and he knew that. His wife knew that too. She had cared for him through all of the lost memories. Every time she was in the study with him, he would remember. He would remember his love for her and their two beautiful children.

John looked towards the wall and saw the same picture of the beautiful woman from the funeral. ‘Who are you?’ he wondered, sitting down. He looked around him. It was so dark in the room he had not been able to take in his surroundings. It was a dark room filled with shelves. There were no books or items of any kind on them. ‘How sad for a shelf to be without its books’ he thought to himself.