Friday books
One rainy Friday afternoon, my Father, Peter brought me a book home. I think he grabbed it on a whim, but it started something. The book was this one:
Trixie Belden, The Secret of the Mansion.
I don’t think he knew it then, but that quick little purchase started a ritual that changed my life. I remember ripping that bag open, and scanning the first sentence “Oh Moms, I’ll just die if I don’t get a horse”. I ran to my bedroom and didn’t come out until I’d finished the last words. For I too, would die if I didn’t get a horse. I had no idea who ‘Moms” was.
And then I flipped it over, and I read it again.
The following Friday, another brown paper bag from the bookshop, another Trixie. And so the habit was born. I don’t think Peter knew just what he’d gotten into, for author Julie Campbell and then mysteriously after book six, Kathryn Kenny, were prolific. They wrote thirty-six Trixie Belden books. THIRTY SIX. At a book a week, that’s nine months. In the time it would take to grow a human baby, my Dad grew a monster. A reading monster. It was voracious.
And so that is what happened. Every. Single. Friday.
Some Fridays he would have “lunch meetings”. It was back in the 80s, before everyone got a work ethic, and when long boozy lunches were an accepted and expected part of business. When he got home he’d be so “tired” from his busy day that Mum would make him go straight to bed. Yet still the brown paper bag. Still the book.
He never forgot.
Of course, eventually we moved on from Trixie, and through other catalogues: Dahl, Tolkien, Twain, Steinbeck. Then later; King, Hornby, Bryson. And finally, right near the end, Nick Earls. By the time we got to Nick I’d long since moved out of home, and so we would have quick chats over the phone or send emails about what we were reading. We had lots of cross-overs, but our tastes diverged at Peter Carey. I couldn’t do Carey.
In the later years, we had switched roles a little, I didn’t do it every Friday, but I did sometimes buy my Dad a book. The last one I got him was The True Story of Butterfish, by Nick Earls. He never finished it. Before he could, the cancer devoured him, from the inside out, and Butterfish was left sitting on the bedside table.
A few months later I was sitting at my desk, reading Butterfish, and I came across a passage I particularly liked. Forgetting my Dad was dead, I absent-mindedly picked up the phone and called his office to discuss it. A woman answered, and the pain and the sad came over me in a hot and cold wave. I hung up quickly, without telling her I was calling to speak to my dead father.
My Dad always thought I’d write a book one day. I don’t know if I have a book in me, but I do have a blog now. And for now, that is enough. I hope my Dad would like reading it.
…From The Ashers xx
What book memories do you have?
Did your Dad do cool stuff for you when you were a kid?
My ever lovely Ali, Peter had me reading Nick Earls too – Zig Zig Street, The Thompson Gunner; then time stood still and I couldn’t pick up another of his books. I think it’s time for some Butterfish. I love your posts xx
Oh yes, do. I think my have is still 48 Shades of Brown. When Mum and Peter moved to BrisVegas one of the first things they did was to go and find ZigZag Street, and walk up and down it, looking for the house.
Thanks for reading! xx
Alison,
So sorry I couldn’t be there to celebrate Peter’s life, but did at least got to listen via the web.
If you remember, Peter, your Mum, you and most of your family stayed up most if not the whole night my last night in Vegas just so I wouldn’t be alone because of my clerical err. (5 nights, 4 w/hotel). It was a great night. Peter & your Mum so insistent that I come to Melbourne and stay with them. Made me feel instantly like a part of your family.
I had so much fun the whole trip, but one of my favorites was spending the whole day with Peter golfing, I’m sure he was thrown because I tend to get a bad case of turrets when I golf, but I’m sure he probably didn’t understand a word I said cause you guys talk funny. JJ. Lol. He is definitely remembered and missed on my end.
Thanks again Alison.
Michael
Oh Mike, that’s awesome. I love hearing stories like that, about how other people appreciate what an amazing man he is/ was. Thanks for sharing! Sounds like it’s time for a trip back down..
Ali, this is so beautiful. Thank you for sharing your treasured memories, so touching. I never was a crazy bookworm but Leila just eats through books, at 8 she cant put her book down, she loves the Rainbow magic series! Brings tears to my eyes reading your blog. I know I never did know your father but I do know how much he means to you and how loved he was. What a special father daughter bond. I’m loving your blog BTW! Its beautiful when we can be honest, authentic & real and share our hearts, as we can share we find personal healing but we can also touch others too.
Thanks Lani, I love hearing about other little bookworms. It’s such a wonderful habit to have.. So much to explore.
And thanks for the blog feedback.
Your relationship with your father was truly beautiful Ali. Trixie means nothing to me and my memories are in my previous comment but I know the sentiment. My dad is a book nerd too. He lives in Honduras with my mum and English books are few and far between there. For 5 years I went on holiday each year to see them (before the move to Aus) and I would cram 10 to 15 books in my bags each time for him. I would barely see him once I got there for he had waited a year to read a new book! And he will continue to re-read those until he gets more. I remember falling out with my dad one holiday though. We didn’t speak for 2 days after his crime. He was reading a book that I had bought at the airport that I wanted to take home after the holiday and read – a keeper. The crime? He had bent the corners of the pages. Ha ha I know but dad knows the rules lol. Don’t disrespect the book 🙂
Such beautiful memories Chrissy. I love how books mark our place in time.
And I love your Dad with all the immersion in books and the folding of corners. The books would have known they were loved!
Alison – this is a beautiful story and so heart-warming. Your dad would be proud of your writing skills! You have more than one book in you. You have a way with words that draws me in. Congratulations! Heather xx
Thanks so much Heather. I really appreciate that. I don’t think there’s a book- my attention span may be too short!
Thank you Alison for sharing that great little story of your dad, you are blessed to have that experience in your life 🙂
I know! It seemed like the time we had with him was too short, but bloody hell we have some grouse memories of him. Thanks for reading.
Oh trust me there is a book in you and Peter will guide you just put blue pen to paper and let it flow angel
Well I’m working on a little thing….
I had all the Trixie Beldens too….kept them and re-read them for years and they started the habit of reading under the doona until my eyes hurt.
Ha, yes! I blame Trixie and her cronies for my -6.5 prescription. I’m a bit older than you, so I had a “bedspread”…
Lord, Alison! You had me at Trixie Beldon but now my face is leaking. I still have my dad but no mumsie (same bloody ‘c’ word) and my dad finally followed me up to Castlemaine so now we (and my step-ma, long forgiven) have coffee every Saturday morning and just chat. There is nothing quite like a kindred-style father/daughter relationship and I see my brother starting them now. Thank you xpenny
Thanks Penny. We are so lucky to have such love and Trixie in our lives.