This book was Ove. His grumpiness took patience. I had to push through the rough exterior to discover the man he was. Then before I knew it, I was loving all of his little imperfections. By the end of the book, I felt like I was his neighbor….loving his little ways and pushing aside his gruffness. I wanted to hug him and bake him cookies.
I ended up really embracing the book. I found myself crying for and loving this sweet old man. I don’t think I’ll look at a Saab or Volvo the same. lol I hate to admit it but I’m guilty of not sitting through the rantings of my elders. Life in general is crazy enough but there is so much to be found beyond the belly aching and ranting. Now I don’t think I was the “blonde weed” in the book but I don’t think I could have been as patient as Parvaneh.
But still – a great read! I’m glad I picked this one up.
Loving someone is like moving into a house,” Sonja used to say. “At first you fall in love with all the new things, amazed every morning that all this belongs to you, as if fearing that someone would suddenly come rushing in through the door to explain that a terrible mistake had been made, you weren’t actually supposed to live in a wonderful place like this. Then over the years the walls become weathered, the wood splinters here and there, and you start to love that house not so much because of all its perfection, but rather for its imperfections. You get to know all the nooks and crannies. How to avoid getting the key caught in the lock when it’s cold outside. Which of the floorboards flex slightly when one steps on them or exactly how to open the wardrobe doors without them creaking. These are the little secrets that make it your home”