My father had visitation with me every other weekend. He would take me for breakfast at a greasy spoon diner, and then maybe bowling...and then finally (and mostly always) before he dropped me back off at my mother's, he would bring me to a bookstore and let me pick out whatever I wanted...as long as I promised that I would (and could) read all of what I brought home.
This was the one huge splurge I was allowed; and I felt it a moral obligation to read the books my father purchased for me with his hard earned money...
I have seen some fathers with their daughters in the store, and sometimes I can tell the pairs on borrowed time...we know our own...
There's a way to stay with someone when you read a book that they recommend, buy for you, or borrow...there is something in the handling of the object, and the object's internal energy that keeps; and ties all involved histories together.
And to lighten the mood, I offer this...
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