The Library of more than just books

I started today, like any other, and wandered to the library. I guess I went to utilize the free wifi, but it quickly turned into a long, misty-eyed stroll down memory lane. A remembrance of my grandma. Now that she's gone, there isn't much that doesn't remind me of her. Today in particular, the smell of old dusty books, and printed ink had my mind flooded with memories. I remember how she used to walk me to the library on the corner of our street. I remember when she helped me sign up for my first library card, she taught me how to check out books, be silent inside, and respect the knowledge that lived there. I remember sitting in the library for hours on end, just reading and listening to the shuffle sound of books moving from an old squeaky cart to their proper space on the shelves. I remember the stained glass windows, the sound the rain made when it hit the rusted drain outside the Children's [Books] room. I remember volunteering to read to the younger kids, summer reading challenges of how many books you could read over a 3mth period. I remember when I was finally old enough and allowed to make the 4minute walk to the library by myself. I miss my grandmother terribly. I miss everything about her. Her infectious laugh, her calming voice when I thought my world was crumbling. I miss her peace, her heart, and even her discipline of making me walk up and down stairs until I "learned [my] lesson". Sometimes I don't think anyone understands where I'm coming from or how I feel. If you've never lost a close loved one, if you've never lost the person who has shaped you into who you are today...then you don't know this pain. You could noteven begin to imagine.