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This book was read on September fourteenth.

I was at my great-aunt's, with whom I was staying following the death of my great-uncle. I noticed this on their shelves and couldn't remember whether I'd read it before.

Honestly, I still can't. Some of it seemed familiar, but I have read Lewis's collected letters, into which some of this could have been excerpted. Other bits did not seem familiar at all.

But even if I'd read this book, I hadn't read this book, because someone in the house, and I do not know who and did not ask, had at some point gone through the book and underlined all the segments dealing with death and grief, with a ruler, in ballpoint. Very careful, painstaking work. Lewis suggests that death should come as a welcome, if one believes in a Christian afterlife, and that while life should not be viewed with bitterness, it is more of a burden than a gift. Those bits were double-underlined.

My aunt and uncle were married for fifty-seven years before he was diagnosed with Parkinson's, and for fifty-eight when he died. The book had both their names in it, in my uncle's handwriting.

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.


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