“Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing.”–Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird
Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird is one of those books that resonates with readers in different ways. It’s one of those stories in which a reader might discover one meaning the first time they read it, and then discover another the next. Many of us have a favorite line or quote, and whether or not we’ve read it once or one hundred times, we can remember the first time we read it. It speaks to something inside of us, pulling on a memory, thought, or feeling.
The stories in this book have meant something different to me each time I’ve read them, but the quote above has always stopped me for a few moments before turning the page. It reminds me to take nothing for granted, and at the same time reminds me that I so very often do just that.
It has been more of a problem lately than before, and in the whirlwind that is graduate school, I know why. I blame this lack of appreciation for the small things on stress, and yes, I realize that is, as my mother would say, nobody’s fault but my own. My attention is on projects, papers, and presentations, and I forget to take the time to just be thankful for all I’ve been given. Deadline after deadline cause me to forget to stop, take a deep breath, and be proud of all I have accomplished so far. As this semester comes to a close, my classmates and I are constantly reminding each other that if we could make it this far, we can make it for a few more weeks. Even with those reminders, however, it is hard not to get caught up in the pressure of it all.
A weekend getaway without laptops and worry is the best medicine, and last weekend was a testament to that. Thanks to our wonderful professor Dr. Bragg, who snagged tickets to the sold out event for us months ago, a few classmates and I were able to attend the To Kill a Mockingbird play with her in Monroeville, Alabama. If you haven’t seen this play, I highly recommend it. If you have seen it, I’m sure you would agree with me. The amateur cast is comprised completely of volunteers, but they are extremely talented and passionate. Many of them have been part of the cast for years.
While I was blown away by the play, it was only one of the ingredients for the perfect weekend.
We drove from Tuscaloosa to Monroeville on Saturday, giving ourselves enough time to visit the historic courthouse for a tour of the museum inside. After having lunch at David’s Catfish House, we visited the site of Truman Capote’s childhood home, and had ice cream at Mel’s Dairy Dream next door.
Becky, Elizabeth, and I wanted to see as much history as we could while in Monroeville, and after ice cream, we set out on one of the driving tours we had learned of in the museum. We spent an hour or two just admiring old buildings and stopping to read the occasional historical marker. The only thing we had to do was make it back to the courthouse in time to get good seats for the play. Once there, we enjoyed cokes in glass bottles and a perfect spring night that ended with drinks and appetizers at the Prop & Gavel, a restaurant that is right across from the courthouse.
What made this weekend so special, and maybe even healing, in my case, was the feeling of having nowhere to be and nothing to worry about. On Sunday, we drove back to Tuscaloosa feeling a lot less stressed than we were two days before. As we drove through the countryside, we stopped to take pictures of beautiful plantation homes, old churches, and wildflowers. We left the main road a few times just to drive through small towns we had never seen before. We stopped for ice cream in Marion and had lunch in Centreville.
Like Harper Lee’s words, this weekend reminded me to appreciate the small things. It often takes losing something to realize how much it meant to you, but this was a different sort of wake up call. This was a reminder of the things I do have, and though I know I’ll probably forget to appreciate them time and time again, I’m thankful I remembered in Monroeville.