Maybe you CAN take it with you

When my sister and I were clearing out our parents' house after their deaths - me doing the upstairs, Judith down - she called up to me, "I can't find Bleak House."

I raced downstairs.

My dad was an inveterate reader. And Dickens' work was very dear to him, especially Bleak House. Which I swear he must have read every couple of years and was always close at hand.

We found the full set of every other Dickens on the shelves in Dad's study, scoured the stack of books beside his chair in the livingroom and rooted through his bedside table. But it was nowhere to be found.

"Maybe," Judith suggested, not all together in jest, "He took it with him!"

It was entirely possible.

My dad had no interest in money. Or things. But books...

If I get to take any books with me when I go, I would like it to be these:

• The Silver Sword by Ian Serralier - reading this at boarding school at about ten years old, I first realized that books could be about important things. It still holds up, sixty years later.
• Kingfishers Catch Fire by Rumer Golden. My mother's favourite book, and a story that transports me to Kashmir every time I read it, although I have never been there.
• Earth and Heaven by Sue Gee - a random library booksale find, about a couple of artists living, painting and printmaking between the two World Wars. Written with an artist's sensibilities.
• The Rattlebag - An anthology of poetry edited by Ted Hughes and Seamus Heaney. Arranged alphabetically by title, so you never know what you will find when you turn the page.
• Pay Attention for Goodness' Sake: The Buddhist Path of Kindness by Sharon Boorstein - because I know I will always need Boorstein's wise counsel wherever I am going.
• Skellig by David Almond - a powerful and poignant story for children and adults. More about Almond's books in a forthcoming post.

I am sure I could easily come up with another six... 

What would you 'take with you' if you could?