July is never my favorite month. I am usually happy to just get through it. This year was no different. In the beginning of the month my father was in the hospital. It is always a scary thing to see a parent immobilized and whose health has deteriorated which his did overnight it seemed. Then just as I thought he may be getting better he had to go back to the hospital. Luckily that time was not nearly as scary.
So I survived my first real brush with having to care for a parent. I worked through all the thoughts on mortality and loss I had the whole time. Things have finally started to calm down a bit since that first week Dad was admitted. On July 30th I then got the news. My favorite author, although I have several in this category she always ranked at the very top, had passed away.
On July 30, 2012 Maeve Binchy died. I was instantly aggrieved as if I knew the woman personally and had lost my best friend. In a sense though anyone who was a fan of her books did lose a good friend. She was my go to author for rainy days when I just wanted to stay under the covers and read. She was the author whose characters came to life for me and as they continued through her books I got to continue to know. I grieved and cried at times, I laughed out loud (even on a public train embarrassingly enough), I could not get through the pages fast enough and put down the book to sleep until I got through the lives and scandals and stories of all her characters. When she had a new book come out on the shelves I would instantly go and purchase it and I can say there is only one other author who I am willing to pay for the higher priced hard cover copy. I would even count down the days until her book would come out in the stores. Since she was an Irish author it would be out already overseas and I would read the reviews and peeks into the story.
As I write my own first book I am reminded of how close the relationship of reader and writer truly are. That is exactly what I had with Maeve Binchy and any author who touches me or excites me or makes me angry, sad, elated or just question myself. The author is like an imaginary friend who speaks to you in a way that no one else can see. They paint pictures no one else can envision the same. They tell tales that make you feel as if there is a secret between just you and the author. A good author is like the best imaginary friend anyone could have. A good book does not necessarily always make you happy but it does make you feel. It does not always leave you feeling stronger but it often entertains you when life can seem dull. And a good book does not always fix the problems but gives you perspective on the world so that when you close the covers you can go back to life with a little bit of knowledge passed down.
I discovered Maeve Binchy when I was in college I believe so I have had the author/reader relationship with her for twenty years give or take. As the technology world began to take over I followed her on twitter and facebook. I would look up articles or dates for new releases. I have watched movies that they have made from her books, which never were as good as the real thing. She has been a friendship that has lasted and got me through over the years and so I pay homage to an author that touched me and became a great friend. I thank her for her years of entertainment and the trust she passed on to the reader with sharing her characters and their lives.
So this is my ode to Maeve Binchy. As I look back over my shoulder to july and up ahead to August I will miss my new Maeve Binchy books greatly but will aways cherish the ones she created.
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