We closed the doors to the public on Friday and the last few days have been all about boxing: boxing returns, boxing strips and boxing transfers. There is a wall of garbage to be thrown away and several pallets (some still to be built) of books to send back, which means the back-breaking labor does not end when all the books are pulled from the shelves.
A bookstore without books looks skeletal, each bone shelf exposed to the air to reveal all its flaws: spilled coffee stains, torn laminate, and dust everywhere.
I really thought I could chronicle this process—the last days with customers, the tear down—as it happened, but that’s impossible. It’s too there, too in my face to really process right away, and when I get home I’m so achy-oh-my-god-what-did-I-do-to-my-self that typing seems to be beyond my abilities. Two ibuprofens, some mindless television and a hot shower are all I can manage.
But I’ll give it another try tonight.
6 comments:
Hang in there.
I feel so sad and I don't even know your store. Take care.
We're still with you, BC. Hang on until the 'old life' has run its course; then start with a fresh lease on the 'new life.'
I've been through the store tear-down, and the only interesting part about it was finding all those long lost things that had fallen in out of the way places. In my case it was a toy store, which had gone through three previous owners before our company had it and ultimately closed it. Finding all the bits and pieces of the previous store iterations, price tags, even whole board game sets that had fallen behind the wall shelves back to that very first store, was an interesting archeological exercise.
Radthorne
Don't worry,BSC-it'll be over soon. Cleaning out any space for good is a sad experience. I remember that when my dad died,one of the first things we did was to clear out his art studio. It was a special room that wasn't easy to walk around(a minefield would've been safer to stroll thru)but my father knew where everything was,in his own way.
We found alot of household items that we had forgotten that we owned. It was a family joke that if anything was missing,it was in the Art Room,a joke that was all too true. My dad painted a good number of still lifes and used plenty of everyday objects as his focal points-pots,pans,vases,figurines,you name it.
Going thru those things,plus donating some of his supplies and art books to a local high school art and design program really helped us deal with his passing in more ways than one.
It's not quite the same as what you're going thru,BSC,but in a way,it is. Hang in there,hon.
Take care of yourself these days, BSC. This is a time to treat yourself sweetly. Sorry it's all ending, but it also means it's all beginning. Onward to the next--and better--part of your life!
this inspired me to do a TT13 about snuffling. . I mean honestly, if the death a bookstore doesn't move you, you're not human.
Post a Comment