Some books just happen with such an impeccable timing. I've hidden Our souls at night by Kent Haruf in a corner of my mind for months and started it when I was still blissfully unaware that soon I'd need someone to gently pat me on my head and fix my crippling fears with simple, soothing words. Which Kent Haruf didn't fail in doing, with his compassionate brush strokes and his depiction of an ordinary, suburban love story (if there is such thing as an "ordinary" love story).
The plot is easy and the feelings involved are not of the larger-than-life kind: Addie and Louis, two old widowed neighbours decide to sleep together at night to share their thoughts and open up their souls. What they get in return from this down-to-earth routine is amazing: relief from their loneliness and, eventually, love. Reading these two old people have no qualms about disclosing affairs, deaths, sacrifices, simple joys - that is to say, life - and observing their souls gracefully collide, without giving a damn about the small-town gossip, made it clear to me something I've known for decades but I just wouldn't admit even to myself. Whether we're talking about love, family, career, it takes a lot of courage to be happy. And even when you're so brave to achieve happiness, it's not for free, it's not to be taken for granted and - most of all - it's not forever. So let's just enjoy what we have and try to make the most of it, as Addie and Louis did. And, if it worked for them, fingers crossed, it'll work for us as well.
