Yesterday, a gentleman texted me to offer condolences on Yolanda’s passing. Then he told me how he knew our names. Yolanda had an advanced degree in English literature and taught high school English to juniors and seniors. Over more than a decade, I bought her every first edition of classic literature and major work of the English literary canon I could find. I spent over $1 million building a library she treasured. When we lost our house, we put everything into three enormous storage units, including one that was climate-controlled. Years later, we lost those too. The man who texted had bought one of those units at auction for $3,400. He said most of the books had certificates of authenticity/provenance. Then he asked whether I still had the certificate for a complete, three-volume 1813 first edition of Pride and Prejudice in contemporary binding. I paid $80,000 for that set. I sat there staring at my phone. Yolanda is gone. The library I built for her is gone. And now, while I’m grieving her, the people whose lawfare helped bring us to this point are still trying to take our modest family home. Yesterday, a stranger’s kind message brought all of that back to life. I know they were books to whoever bought the unit. To Yolanda, that library was a lifetime of learning and joy. I would give anything to see her sitting among them one more time. I’m so sorry, my Boo Boos. ❤️