Kind of hating the movie version of James and the Giant Peach last night (which I was watching for the first time), I pulled out my own copy of Roald Dahl’s story. On the inside cover of the book (long missing its dust jacket), I was startled to see my mother’s handwriting which reads simply: “Craig Kennedy 12/25/76.” It was Christmas and I was 7 years old.
She’s gone now and has been for almost 20 years. For one reason or another, I don’t have any mementos of the life she lived and I’ve always regretted that, but here unexpectedly was one that means more to me than any other I could’ve imagined. It was lost in a way, yet it was near me the whole time and I’m delighted to have rediscovered it a little over a week past Christmas, exactly 36 years after it was given to me.
I love you, mom.
Filed under: Books