The Bookstore

If you know me, you may already know that I grew up in a book and coffee store in my small hometown in Kentucky. My godmother owned this charming store on main street and I asked her at the age of 14 if I could come work for her. She obviously obliged and from then on it quickly became my place of refuge. It’s where I found myself. While my peers were into sports and parties, I spent my time in the book stacks sipping on my latest creation. Naturally, my love for books and coffee deepened, but it’s also where I found my love for people.

To me, Karen’s Book Barn wasn’t just a place, it was a feeling. A feeling shaped predominately by its owner, Karen, but also by its workers, and regulars. I met the most fascinating, caring, loving, remarkable people during the ten years I worked there. I can’t even begin to list all of the special people I encountered during my time there, but you all know who you are. These people became my second family. People who supported me no matter what and were always down to lend an open ear and heart. People who loved me simply because I was the girl behind Karen’s counter. But this went both ways. There is just something about selling people books and coffee that allows them to open up to you. Karen and I joked that we were basically nonalcoholic bartenders. I marvel over the amount of people who told me stories of their youth, their family, hardships, celebrations, and so forth. These were connections were real, deep, and remain so precious to me.

My dream was always to take over the shop one day and carry on the legacy, but life had other plans. I have since moved states and after twenty years, Karen sold Karen’s Book Barn a few years ago. Even though life changed for us in great ways, there’s still something about the fall, the crispness in the air that gets me nostalgic of my beloved spot on Main Street. I get all Kathleen Kelly from You’ve Got Mail (my favorite movie, duh!) and l long to go back to those days where I helped “my people’ find their next favorite book over a mocha latte.

So why am I posting all of this on my grief blog? I think it’s because I’m grieving the loss of this place too. Before, when life got “tough," I’d make a trip back and spend the day there. I’d catch up with “my family” and find myself again. Yet, in the past year and half, when life really has gotten as hard as it ever has, I don’t have those red doors to open and go hide out for a bit. I understand that these things are apart of life and I know I may sound a little crazy for ranting about all of this and including this into the grief over my loved ones. But sometimes grief makes a little crazy, and that’s okay. Who knows, maybe one day my husband will finally persuade me to open up my own crazy sequel to Karen’s Book Barn. Maybe then I’ll have the opportunity to establish a safe place for some other guy or girl with big dreams mixed with a lot of love for books, coffee, and people. Until then, I’ll sip on my coffee and cherish these memories for a lifetime.