“I love books,” he says, standing next to one of the massive shelving units in his study, his shoulders rounded as though he’s been bent over a desk since he learned to read.
Most titles are English, many Greek and Latin, and of course Polish. A good number are German. This surprises me. He’s spoken about the Nazis murdering so many ancestors before those who survived came all the way to Hawai‘i.
Reading had become nearly everything since he’d retired. Now that Yuki, his wife, has died, I can almost see him, a ghost, haunting this library day and night.