Goodbye Harry...

I know everybody is talking, writing, watching, reading, sleeping, eating, and anxiously awaiting the final film of the beloved Harry Potter series. And being one who does not like to be left out, I thought I'd take this moment to add my own thoughts to the billions of blog posts out there on the subject.

Unlike the majority, Harry Potter did not define my childhood. It wasn't even part of my childhood. I was well into adulthood before I could tell you who the Dursleys were or the real name of he-who-shall-not-be-named.



My first encounter with the boy with the lightning scar came when my oldest daughter was barely one. I had a seasonal job at a local bookstore over the holidays, and at the time the Prisoner of Azkeban had recently been released. The book was flying off the shelves as the holidays approached and several co-workers praised the series (even the adults were devouring them they claimed).

But I wasn't interested. At the time my bookshelves sagged with the weight of Debbie Macomber, Nora Roberts, Jude Deveraux, and Linda Howard. Since the moment I had traded my children's books for the thick romances my mom read, I hadn't looked back. I didn't think I could look back.

But then my little girl grew up and several years later wanted to read the Harry Potter books herself. Being a responsible parent I listened to all the conflicting controversies surrounding the series. They were too dark. They would encourage kids to dabble in witchcraft. Being a responsible adult, I decided I needed to read the books and judge for myself. So I did.



I picked up the first book in October of 2007, and I set down the last one just 8 days later. During the week I read the series, the laundry piled up, the dishes filled the sink, and dinner was always something microwaveable. I couldn't put the books down.

And so my love affair with the Harry Potter series began.

For many, this week is an end of an era. It's a bittersweet goodbye to the books and movies they have grown up with over the better part of the last decade. Many are sad.

I will be seeing the last movie on Friday with the daughter that persuaded me to pick up that first book. We are highly anticipating the movie, but when the credits roll, I'm not sure I'll be shedding any tears that Harry Potter has finally come to an end.

Maybe it's because I didn't grow up with the Harry Potter franchise. Maybe it's because I only discovered the wizarding world four years ago, rather than fourteen. Maybe it's because I know the DVD will probably be out in time for Christmas.


Or maybe it's because deep in the crystal ball I see myself, a few years from now, picking up that first book. This time it's my youngest daughter at my side.

And once again, I will ride the Hogwart's Express.