I just read Gabriel Garcia-Marquez has passed away. I stopped what I was doing, and came to sit down to type my feelings out, as though people care that I'm quite attached to an old man author I've never met.
But I am.
And so I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes.
To say I adore Gabo's style is light. I read his books during a complicated time in my life. I loved his work. Ardently. I would feverishly read until untold hours in the morning, drag myself through a day's work in retail, sneak blips of reading as often as I could between customers... devouring his books.
When I found out I was pregnant, Paul suggested we name the Hobbes-it after a character in one of my books... I told him Aureliano probably wasn't a great name.
I had, for some reason, held out hope I'd somehow meet Gabo someday. Now I don't even have that.
*sigh* So is life, I suppose.
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A Life Well Lived
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