My empty bookshelf has been filled. Not filled exactly. It is the current home to two picture frames with pictures of my twin boys. They will not stay there. The empty bookshelf is to remain empty for as long as possible. It is a bookshelf intended for books and books it will be filled with but all in due time. When that time is I cannot say, but I can predict.
I am reading around seven physical books a month. Most of those books are moved onto the main bookshelf. The empty bookshelf is the continuation of the main bookshelf. Each shelf on the main bookshelf holds around 35 books. There is one book on the lowermost bookshelf.
This means that I will have to read 35 books until the one book that is currently on the lowermost shelf of the main bookshelf will need to move to the empty bookshelf. At my current pace of seven physical books a month this will happen in five months so around May of 2022.
That seems so far away. May of 2022. I don’t even own all the books I am going to read and place upon the main bookshelf as of now. That is how far off in the future that is, and yet it is close. It is five months away. Still a lot will change by then. The two boys, whose pictures currently occupy the empty bookshelf, will be approaching three years of age. They will probably be much taller, and their sister will be getting close to 18 months of age and all the milestones that come with that.
It is then that the pictures must be moved for the empty bookshelf will be empty no more and it is a bookshelf for me and what I choose to fill it with. It is a bookshelf for books. While I love my boys their pictures are not meant for that book shelf. They are permitted to stay in that room, but not on that bookshelf. The other fresh bookshelf I moved into that room was hijacked but this one will not be. It is remain untouched until I am ready to fill it.
The pictures are merely resting there. Taking a short break before continuing on to their final destination. Where that is no one knows, but it will not be on the empty bookshelf. A bookshelf that is now empty in spirit only because two picture frames with pictures of my two boys are currently resting there.