The Ledger

By Becky Holland

September is Daddy’s birthday month.

If he were still with us, James Holland would be looking toward his 93rd birthday on September 28.

Daddy loved a good Western. Matt Dillon. The Rifleman. John Wayne—John Wayne was his favorite.

We all knew that if Daddy was chilling with a Western on television, it wasn’t question time. Leave the man alone.

Westerns gave him moments of peace.

When the Lonesome Dove miniseries first aired, we gathered in the den as a family, but Daddy especially got caught up in the story and the action.

Recently, several of my book-reviewer friends started talking about Lonesome Dove again. They were rereading Larry McMurtry’s novel and giving it five stars—men and women alike.

I toyed with the idea of reading it myself.

Then I looked at the size of the book.

Nope.

When you’re accustomed to books you can knock out in a day or two, something that thick can be intimidating. I read my share of classics in college literature classes, and I’ve read Gone With the Wind three times—the first time when I was 12.

But somehow the idea of reading Lonesome Dove slipped away.

That book is thick.

Then, a week or so later, it showed up again, this time on a reviewer site I had never looked at before.

Okay, I thought. Why not?

I don’t have to race through it. I can take my time and simply live in those pages for a while.

And if Daddy were here, chances are we’d be watching a Western anyway.

So I decided that in memory of what would have been his 93rd birthday on September 28, I would read Lonesome Dove.

There was just one problem.

I needed a copy.

I could have ordered one, but I’m currently on a book-buying ban—online and in-store. I’ve been shopping my own shelves, visiting thrift stores and checking Little Free Libraries instead.

So where in the world was I going to find Lonesome Dove?

You know, sometimes things happen when you least expect them.

Three thrifty book stops.

Nothing.

And then I got a call.

Someone had found my yellow for the day.

A 40th anniversary edition of Lonesome Dove, originally priced at $24.99.

My price?

$3.

I think Daddy would appreciate that part, too.

So, yeah.

This one may take me a while. I may have to put it down occasionally and read something lighter. And I certainly won’t be finishing it in a day or two.

But there’s no hurry.

For a little while, I get to sit with Gus and Call—and, in my own way, sit with Daddy and one of the things that brought him peace.

Happy early heavenly birthday, Daddy.

This read is for you.