A Life Suspended

This important book, A Life Suspended: A Mother and Son’s Story of Autism, Extinction Bursts, and Living a Resilient Life, is written by my writing group facilitator Nicole Donovan. 

It was fortuitous that I attended Nicole’s Snapshot Stories workshop at the Sandwich Library in February. Despite my experience writing, after retirement I was in need of some inspiration. I learned so much from Nicole that I signed up for five more sessions in May at her Lotus and Rose Healing Arts Studio. The Ancestral Stories writing group continued meeting monthly through September and has been a consistent source of joy for me throughout.

Now, I’m at a crossroads about how to move forward with my writing aspirations. September truly is a month of transitions and a time for me to come to terms with my goals. I love the group energy of Ancestral Stories and would hate to give that that up. I’ve been questioning what direction to take, and I feel like I need some guidance. It’s not like my ancestors have been very forthcoming, but nonetheless my writing persists! Nicole offers so many choices for writing support, I just don’t know which is best for me. It’s good to have options, I guess; however, I have seriously digressed from this book review.

Having finished reading this book, I believe Nicole would be a good fit to help me bring some coherence to my own ideas. Her writing is honest and accessible. She writes in an open and authentic manner about the very personal topic of her son Jack’s Asperger’s Syndrome diagnosis. 

Our writing styles and life sensibilities are similar in many ways. We’re both mothers and teachers whose experiences reverberate with the familiar themes of self-doubt, a search for clarity, and difficulty letting go. Correlations echo throughout, mostly in our introspective natures and coping strategies. Therapy, journaling, breath work, meditation, and humor bring solace to us both during emotional challenges.

I love how Nicole incorporates figurative and descriptive language into her prose. Her story is both heartrending and hopeful at the same time. She fully captures the essence of trying to keep it all together as a mother, and the intensity of our ‘mother bear’ feelings for our children. 

I annotated the hell out of this book as I read it, but this passage stands out for its relevance in my life at the moment. 

“There is an old saying, ‘When the student is ready, the teacher will appear,’ which I found true in my own life. Jack was ready for the next phase. It was time for me to let go . . .”

I have had opportunities to be both the teacher and the student from that expression in my lifetime. Lifelong learning and growing is the key component for a worthwhile existence at any age.

Abscond

Abscond is a short story by Abraham Verghese that I downloaded to my kindle for free. I think I like this author’s writing, but his novels are LONG and therefore require quite a commitment from me. I’m glad I made it through The Covenant of Water and need to decide whether to attempt Cutting for Stone. I worry I won’t have the stamina. 

Verghese clearly writes from what he knows, and much of that knowledge seems to revolve around Indian and Scottish cultures, as well as an interest in academics and medicine. I recognized the similar subtleties of characterization in both of his stories, and I suspect the same will be true in Stone.

So in summary, Abscond was entertaining. The story centers on the life of 13-year-old tennis prodigy Ravi Ramanathan, during the summer of 1967 in New Jersey. The description on Goodreads begins, “Fate challenges a boy to find his place in the world …” Ironically, I felt there were some areas that could have been fleshed out more. In other words, think I would LOVE this author if his books were “just right” (like Goldilock’s porridge) in length. Not too short and not too long :)

Burn

There’s something about this book that kept me reading … for a month, but the ending was so, so disappointing. Burn by Peter Heller sacrificed plot for character introspection and intricate (but repetitive) descriptive details.

That said, I think I liked the writing style (which isn’t often the case). I would have preferred more meat on the bones of the storyline which involved some type of armed conflict between Maine secessionists and the US government. There’s also the “ick” factor of the main character’s recollections of his sexual encounters with his    best friend’s mother when he was a teenager.

Let’s examine some of my annotations for clues. The main character, Jess, through whose eyes we are viewing the current events, is kind of a lost boy. A good person, wrestling with a difficult past as well as an unclear future. He is thoughtful and makes good decisions under pressure. Here he reflects on the elusiveness of achieving happiness.

“The hammer had dropped so often in his life that when there was peace, when there was enough love, when he was cradled by it—the love of a friend, a wife, a dog—he knew that sometime around the height of his joy or contentment—right at the apex, when it seemed life might right itself like a ship in a cross sea, and turn, and sail smoothly—just then lightning would strike. A rogue wave would rise up and blot out the horizon.”

Waiting for the other shoe to drop is how I have perceived this experience in my life. I also identified with this passage that aptly demonstrates the power of positive thinking during rough times. 

“He thought again that he might pretend—that the world was a vessel of beauty and peace. He didn’t have to: The clear cold morning was real. Storey was real—his chosen brother—and he had Jess’s back as always. These woods, in their exuberant transition to a dark and frozen winter, were real. The coffee he would soon pour into cups that would warm their hands, the welcome heat off the fire, the quiet wheezes and pops as the flames burned down were all real. One could focus, couldn’t one? Mightn’t one sit in the full bore of a sun just clearing the trees and drink coffee quietly as the meadow dried and the day warmed? And feel a measure of peace?”

Finally, I do appreciate a doomsday story that incorporates a little Zen wisdom to help ease a character’s emotional pain. Here, Jess ponders, the age-old question that the student asks of the Zen master. “I have gained enlightenment, what do I do now?” The response: “Wash your bowl.”

“I have lost everything, what do I do now? Wash the pot, ha. Maybe enlightenment and total loss are the same thing. That is something to chew on.”

I do admire a character who recognizes something worth chewing on, and I guess the juicy morsel of introspection is the best we can expect from life during these uncertain times. Keep it real, and do what needs to be done!

The Beggar Maid

Small Things Like These

I’ve been exploring my Irish roots through some recent writing workshops, so it’s perfect timing for Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan to become available on CLAMS.

Keegan’s stories always make me think, which is the whole purpose for immersing oneself in a book. I learn a great many Irish/British expressions along the way, too. The real draw for me, however, are Keegan’s thoughtful, realistic characters. I despise reading about contrived, stereotypical people.

This time, I had great empathy for the main character, Bill Furlong, the hardworking, steadfast owner of a heating fuel delivery company. Bill, his wife Eileen and their five daughters are salt-of-the-earth, faithful members of an Irish community sometime in the 1980s. Bill is a thoughtful man who often reflects on his family’s circumstances, recognizing and appreciating the fruits of his solid, working class lifestyle. His work puts him in contact with all manner of people, and he is especially mindful of those not doing as well as he.

Keegan offers insight into Bill’s perspective with her tight, honest prose. Who among us cannot relate to this quick bit?

“When he reached the yard gate and found the padlock seized with frost, he felt the strain of being alive and wished he had stayed in bed…”

And, here one of my favorite sentiments is echoed.

“Always, Christmas brought out the best and the worst in people.”

A shocking discovery one day causes Bill to dig deeper into his own consciousness. As he does, he contemplates his wife’s simple philosophy, “If you want to get on in life, there’s things you have to ignore, so you can keep on.” I can relate to that myself. The world is full of horrific news, but to become overwhelmed by it, can lead to hopelessness and inaction. 

The soft-hearted Bill, however, can’t shake off the weight of what he has witnessed. His inner conflict brings him head to head with the Catholic Church and leads him to this revelation, “was there any point in being alive without helping one another?”

I’ll conclude with this quote that pretty much sums it all up.

“People could be good, Furlong reminded himself, as he drove back to town; it was a matter of learning how to manage and balance the give-and-take in a way that let you get on with others as well as your own.”

Keegan’s writing invites us to ponder our own inner angst as well as how it relates to our connectivity to humanity. That certainly makes for a worthwhile read.

Edited to add my thoughts after watching the movie on Hulu. I would not have chosen the Oppenheimer actor to play Bill Furlong, but I was pleasantly surprised to see a different, less intense, softer side of Cillian Murphy. At the close of the movie this statement fills the screen. 

“Dedicated to the more than 56,000 young women who were sent to Magdalene institutions for ‘penance and rehabilitation’ between 1922 and 1998. And the children who were taken from them.” 

I was unfamiliar with the legacy of the Magdalene Laundries but not surprised to research the subject and learn a little about the abuse that took place. This quote from the Mother Superior’s sermon was particularly relevant, especially when questioning how these atrocities happen. “The love of the Lord is everlasting upon those who fear Him. His justice reaches out to the children’s children when they keep His Covenant in truth.”

Three Days In June

 

Three Days in June by Ann Tyler felt like I was reading something authored by the fictional character Lucy Barton in an Elizabeth Strout novel. The entire book read like a play-by-play of the most mundane, ordinary activities of the main character. Luckily, I identified with Gail Baines, a socially awkward teacher in her 60s who has just been let go from her job as assistant headmistress at a swanky private school. 

Granted, a few conflicts unfold to keep things moving along in this quick read, and that’s what kept me going. However, drab dialogue like the following didn’t make it easy. 

I said, “Oh.” I said, “I hadn’t considered that.”

The story takes place in the Baltimore area during the three days surrounding the wedding of Gail’s only daughter, Debbie. The book opens with the bad news being delivered to Gail by her boss and supposed friend Marilee. The reason given is her lack of people skills which Gail appears not to dispute.

Along the way, the arrival of Gail’s ex-husband with a kitten complicates the situation. In flashbacks, the demise of their marriage as well as Gail’s relationship with her own mother are revisited. A small hiccup between bride and groom as well as the antics of the overbearing in-laws also factor into the plot and nudge it along.

Tyler is the author of many books including The Accidental Tourist which I read but can’t recall anything about it. A Spool of Blue thread found its way onto my Want To Read list a while ago, but I think I’ll give myself space before I try another Tyler novel.

I did, however, download one of her short stories,Teenage Wasteland, because it was free on Kindle. I will update if I ever finish reading that.

Crash Book

 

 

Crash Book is the second of my former therapist Marlene Denessen’s books that I was delighted to discover online and read. My curiosity was peaked by the title and cover image depicting a closeup of a deer head. Turns out she began a healing journey using meditation after being seriously injured in a car accident involving a deer on Route 195 in Massachusetts.

Published in 2022, this book is a pretty handy resource filled with practical advice for developing a meditation practice. It contains anecdotes that humanize the experience for those of us just beginning. Marlene’s voice is straightforward, nonjudgmental, and rings with clarity. Her salt-of-the-Earth guidance is easy to understand and incorporates background information about mindfulness and wellbeing. 

For example, here is a quote from Marc Hiles of the Iona Center that is so relatable. “We are overdosed on data and underfed on the mysterious. Our brains inflate while our souls wither.” I need to be especially cognizant of not drowning my brain while my soul remains thirsty. This concept also brings to mind the word “numinous” that I learned from Susan Cain, the author of Quiet. Mysterious, spiritual, enchanting, mystical, bewitching.

I identified with Marlene’s reference to what she calls the “passing show” or the daily distractions that inevitably compete for our attention during meditation. She matter of factly counsels us to recognize the passing show, pay it no mind, and redirect our focus on the breath and the process of clearing our minds. 

In Crash Book, Marlene also mentions the Buddhist reference to “monkey mind” of which I am most definitely afflicted!

The Measure / The Serviceberry

The Measure by Nikki Erlick is probably going to scare the shit out of me, but I can’t resist. This book became available through CLAMS on May 5, and like a moth to a flame, I clicked borrow.  When my teacher friend Elaine talked about it a couple of years ago, I was intrigued, but I was still working and didn’t have as much time to read as I do now. 

Earlier this year, I read Here One Moment, thinking that was the book Elaine had recommended. The premise of people knowing when they will die is similar but handled in very different ways. I have dissected that book on this blog. 

Naturally, all the books I have on hold are ready at the same time, and last night I began reading The Serviceberry by Robin Wall Kimmerer, author of the more well-known Braiding Sweetgrass. Probably, I will become either totally frustrated or wholly enlightened trying to read these two books at the same time. Let’s see how this plays out.

I’m still slogging away on The Measure but last night (5/21/25) I finished The Serviceberry. The book’s subtitle says it all really: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World. It’s appropriate that I finished reading this tiny book during a time when I’m losing patience with the clown in charge of our country and the posse of idiots he has surrounded himself with as they wreak havoc on the environment and the common good.

Turns out my dual reading experiment worked out nicely as I finished The Measure today (5/22/25). The books, despite being very different, are oddly complimentary. Both brought in elements of current events and the politics of humanity. 

All Fours

I really need to become more discerning in my choices of reading material. Information overload and overwhelm is real, especially these days when I let myself ponder how few years I realistically have left I know that sounds dark, but it’s just reality. I probably shouldn’t have wasted my precious time reading All Fours by Miranda July, but once I made it halfway, I was committed to completion.

I also probably should’ve recognized the sexual connotation in the title too, but again, no, I missed that clue and was taken aback a little bit when the book lurched into full-blown soft-porn as the main character awkwardly explores her sexuality and questions her life choices. 

In case you’re thick like me, toward the end of the book you’ll be treated to this pearl of wisdom, “Everyone thinks doggy style is so vulnerable…but it’s actually the most stable position. Like a table. It’s hard to be knocked down when you’re on all fours.” So says the unnamed protagonist’s long-suffering artist friend when describing her sculpture of a green marble, headless woman on her hands and knees! And by long-suffering, I’m referencing her putting up with her annoyingly, self-indulgent 45 year old friend throughout the entire book.

I wish I could recall how this book came to be on the long list of selections I wait patiently for on Libby. Could have been the Titcomb’s newsletter or New York Times bestseller lists. If I could remember, I’d avoid future recommendations from that source.

It’s never good when you can’t wait to finish reading a book, hoping all along a tornado comes along and wipes out all the characters or they all die in a house fire. No such luck. I finally made it to the end and was left scratching my head. Somehow the irritating main character was still going, like a demented Energizer Bunny, leaving a trail of devastation and confusion in her wake.

Shark Heart

Shark Heart: A Love Story by Emily Habeck is a weird-ass book raved about by the woman leading the weird-ass poetry workshop I took at the Sandwich Library in February. I actually participated in three free workshops offered, and the poetry was my least favorite for many reasons. Unforgivably, the teacher was totally unprepared. And yet I did heed this book recommendation from her.

As so often happens with weird-ass books I read, I kind of like it, but it needs some tweaking/editing. It is a quick and easy read so that’s nice.  I originally rated it harshly, 3-stars on Goodreads, but after reviewing my highlights and writing this summary, I would change it to 4-stars.

The idea is a good one, creative and original, but the orchestration of all the pieces misses the mark for me. The structural elements, choppy chapters, and awkward transitions between viewpoints distracted me from the many profound declarations, such as this one.

“Joy and grief are human birthrights, but mostly, being alive is everything in between.”

And this one.

“Truth and Love were complicated concepts on their own, and patching the two words together created a significant tangle Lewis could not unwind.”

The setting is an otherwise realistic world where it appears normal for some humans to contract an ailment that causes them to change into animals. The main character named Wren, who is not a bird but a woman, reflects on how her life has been impacted by these transformations. The story begins as her husband is diagnosed with a Carcharodon carcharias mutation. Thus begins the couple's misadventures as he gradually transitions into a great white shark. While the physical adaptations he endures are shocking, his psychological journey proves to be the most unsettling. 

The characters and even their animal counterparts, impart a great deal of wisdom as they are forced to reckon with their unusual circumstances. Their interactions are all a bit poetic and metaphoric. Maybe in its own weird-ass way reading this helped me connect to my own inner love of figurative language.

Maybe life has no ceiling, no floors, no walls, and we’re free-falling from the moment we’re born, lying to each other, agreeing to make invented ideas important, to numb ourselves from the secret.” “What’s the secret?” “Maybe what happens between birth and death isn’t as precious as we think.”

Tell Me Everything

 

Tell Me Everything by Elizabeth Strout should have been subtitled, But Leave Out the Uninteresting Parts Please. If I wasn’t so stubborn, I’d have given up on this book. Instead, I put my Kindle on airplane mode and dug in my heels to finish it. 

It took a month.

I cannot say I enjoyed this reading experience. The characters are wearisome, the dialogue is ponderous, and the plot is meandering. The best part for me was the ending. To think I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t persevered. Actually the beginning kind of hooked me, but everything in between was just ‘meh’. Here is how the story grabbed my attention and drew me in. 

“This is the story of Bob Burgess, a tall, heavyset man who lives in the town of Crosby, Maine, and he is sixty-five years old at the time that we are speaking of him. Bob has a big heart, but he does not know that about himself; like many of us, he does not know himself as well as he assumes to, and he would never believe he had anything worthy in his life to document. But he does; we all do.”

Full disclosure: Strout has written about this town and its inhabitants before. I’ve read and enjoyed some of their stories, and have felt not so much love for others.* Many of these characters make an appearance in Tell Me Everything, and therein lies a big part of the problem for me.

When these characters are introduced in this story, they  don’t have enough depth to them. For instance, I hated the book, Oh William and couldn’t really remember the backstory between Lucy Barton and her ex-husband William, so the continuation of their relationship in this novel didn’t resonate with me. Apparently, Strout also wrote about Bob and his brother Jim in The Burgess Brothers which I haven’t read. That background knowledge would’ve been helpful, too. 

On the other hand, I love the scene where Olive Kitteridge sits and observes everyone at Bob’s birthday party. Olive is the one character I appreciate, and I’m a huge fan of Strout’s other books that centered on her storyline. Added bonus: Imagine Francis McDormand in the television miniseries version bringing the curmudgeonly, down-home-Maine character to life!

The plodding, run-on-sentence style of writing also got on my last nerve. To me, it reflects the demeanor of the Lucy Barton character, who is supposedly a writer. Or maybe it’s just meant to capture the folksy familiarity of people from the Pine Tree State.

Whatever the reason, this stylistic distraction ruined my enjoyment of even the intriguing plot points such as the concept of Bob Burgess being a “sin-eater” because of his compassion for others. Similarly, the relationship between Olive and Lucy when they tell each other stories about the “unrecorded lives” of people they had known, would have been more poignant without the clumsy wordage. Here is an example of the kind of superfluous description I find annoying.

Bob bumped into Katherine Caskey on the street. “Bob!” she said, and he said, “Hello, Katherine.” They continued walking till they reached Katherine’s car. Katherine unlocked the car and took the package from Bob and stuck it into the backseat, then turned to Bob.

In contrast, here is a little, obtuse statement that I can really sink my brain into. 

“And yet, as is often the case, those of us who need love so badly at a particular moment can be off-putting to those who want to love us, and to those who do love us.”  

Here’s a little taste of why I relate so much to Olive. 

Olive was silent for a long moment. Then she said, meditatively, “It’s quite a world we live in, isn’t it. For years I thought: I will miss all this when I die. But the way the world is these days, I sometimes think I’ll be damned glad to be dead.”

Everything good about this book (finally, sort of) comes together in the last two chapters. “Love is love” seems to be the message, but even this universal theme is diluted by Lucy’s simplistic words, “Love comes in so many different forms, but it is always love.” 

*This in itself is a strange occurrence for me. How can the same author inspire such polar opposite reactions from me?

I had a similar experience with Fredrik Backman’s work. Loved: My Grandmother Asked Me To Tell You She’s Sorry and A Man Called Ove. Couldn’t get into: Anxious People or Bear Town.

🤷‍♀️

The Quick and the Dead

The Quick and the Dead—A Collection of Stories by Harry Van Sciver is a book with a remarkable story of its own. After the author’s untimely death at age 65 his widow decided to publish his writing posthumously, “As a way for him to stay with us a bit longer.” She extended copies to family friends to thank them for their support. A friend of mine  received a copy as a thank you for her kind words at the funeral, which she passed on to me to read.

Nestled between a heartfelt foreword written by his wife and a recipe for his excellent version of a perfect Manhattan with a Twist, are two complete and three incomplete short stories that reflect the percipience of a gifted writer, taken too soon.

Despite never having met the author myself, while reading his words, I couldn’t help but feel the heaviness of the tragic circumstances surrounding his death. I have no intention of critiquing a dead man’s work, nor is it necessary. I enjoyed both of his completed stories and can only imagine how more time could have enhanced this writer’s body of work. Let the cocktail speak for itself.  

Little Dipper

Little Dipper: Roots of Healing—Tides of Change by Marlene Denessen is a gem of a little book published in 2007, yet much of its wisdom remains relevant in 2025. 

“I listen to the radio as I exercise. The situation in the Middle East is violent and bloody, and it isn’t going to go away soon.”

Marlene Denessen was my therapist back in the late 1990s and early 2000s during my existential crisis of motherhood, divorce, identity. I knew she was smart, but I was unaware of the extent of her deep-thinking and writing abilities. Her counseling empowered me during a deeply confusing time in my life, and I credit her support with allowing me to move forward in life with gratitude and positivity. 

I continue to be inspired by Marlene’s outlook as I read this now, at an age close to hers when this book was written. This Amazon description captures the essence of this book. 

“Rendered in crisp and engaging prose, and drawing upon the insights of the long career of a professional helper, this book is a must-read for those who seek, in their own ways, simplicity, spirituality and wholeness.”

 It is a recounting of a period of time when the author was searching for clarity, grieving the loss of a grandchild, and  seeking to simplify her way of life. Like Henry David Thoreau, she purchases a plot of land in Canada where she stays for weeks at a time in the summer embracing a slower pace and healthy lifestyle surrounded by the beauty of nature.

Bad Monkey

My dear friend, Phil Cunningham was the first to mention the book Bad Monkey to me recently. It jogged my memory about the author Carl Hiaasen whose writing I’ve been a fan of for quite a while. Then Wayne sent me these photos and said he was enjoying the book for its many uses of the word cunt. 

Years ago, prior to Bonnie’s Book Blog, I read either Skinny Dip or Sick Puppy. I can’t remember which. This is par for the course with this author's work. His writing is a tad formulaic and over-the-top, but funny as hell. As a teacher I loved Hoot and enjoyed sharing Hiaasen’s other young adult books with my students.

Turns out Bad Monkey is also an Apple TV miniseries now starring Vince Vaughan. Might be time for another free trial ;)

I’m not going to lie, about halfway through, I lost interest in the book’s trajectory. The location in the Bahamas and the island dialect got tedious for me. I didn’t care for the Voodoo Dragon Queen character, and I even began to worry about the fate of the bad-tempered monkey. Also, the constant introduction of new characters and shifts between different locations became dizzying!

I found myself laughing more at the beginning of the story and then the quirky bits got old. An unexpected twist energized me toward the end, and of course, I needed to know how it all wrapped up. A quick two-week read that I ultimately enjoyed more than I didn't. 

Maybe these quotes will help explain my synchronicity with the main character, Detective Yancy. "He wondered if something was mentally wrong with him for being content with what he had . . ." Yes, the same thought often goes through my head. "Usually when making love he strived for a purely sensory, uncomplicated experience. Incorporating a game or skit seemed too much like a class assignment." Ditto that, let's not make sex into work. And finally, "All I want out of a relationship is neutral buoyancy. Is that asking too much?" Really, it's a simple concept. Why is it so hard to find?

Fun fact: there’s a character named Bonnie in the story who is a sexual felon but not a cunt!

Edited to Add: Yes, I sprung for the cheap three-month subscription and was not disappointed by the Apple TV version of Bad Monkey. Vince Vaughan really brought Andrew Yancy to life, even though he's not at all how I envisioned the character in the book. Many other characters were more appealing to me onscreen as well, especially those in the Bahamas, and a few plot tweaks changed the story's overall tone for the better IMHO.

The Frozen River

I finished reading The Frozen River by Ariel Lawhon the night Wayne called me out of the blue to tell me he was missing his dad. We had a nice conversation, and then I couldn't get back to sleep so I stayed up until 11:30 pm (late for me) to gorge on this book’s conclusion.

Reading this book was a multi-step process for me. The journey began when Lisa recommended it, and I immediately put it on hold at the library. After waiting a very long time for my turn, I was not initially super impressed with the writing. 

Phase 1: I was definitely drawn in by the vivid depiction of a harrowing scene in the beginning: a body violently traveling down an icy, turbulent river in 1789 Maine. The story is historical fiction, which I love, but with a torrid twist and a mystery. At first I thought it was written with  a bit too much sensationalism for my taste. I like my historical fiction dry and boring, just kidding. But this felt like I was reading a grisly, modern, true-crime chronicle.

Phase 2: To my astonishment, I discovered the novel was based on a real woman, who kept an actual written diary chronicling her life as a midwife during the early days of America. Some of the book is fictionalized because many of the journal entries are sparsely detailed, but it is still a compelling commentary on early American society.

There is a nonfiction account of this story titled A Midwife's Tale: The Life of Martha Ballard, Based on Her Diary 1785-1812 that I started to read but ran out of time before my renewal was rejected. I hope to pick it up again and learn more about this earnest woman. Published in 1990 by historian Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, the book is a Pulitzer Prize winner. A documentary version of A Midwife's Tale was produced in 1997 by the PBS series, The American Experience. I'm very annoyed that I have to purchase the DVD on Amazon for $19 or subscribe to PBS Documentaries for $4.99/month in order to watch it.

Phase 3: Naturally I turned to other sources to uncover more about Martha Ballard and her diary. Cool fact from Wikipedia, "Under a 1668 Massachusetts law, midwives were often asked to pressure young unwed mothers into naming the father of the child in the throes of labor, an action which Ballard frequently participated in." Maine, of course, was part of the Massachusetts Bay Colony at that time.

The provenance of the original journal itself is interesting as it turns out it ended up in the hands of "Ballard's great-great granddaughter, Mary Hobart, one of the first female US physicians to graduate from the New York Infirmary for Women and Children in 1884, the same year that she received the diary."

Eventually the journal found its way to the Maine State Library where it was unearthed by the historian Laurel Thatcher Urlich who began to piece together stories by cataloging journal entries and cross-referencing with other documents, bringing to life the post-revolutionary world of Hallowell, Maine.

Here are a couple of quotes, in Martha's own words that demonstrate her thoughts about her record-keeping. In the beginning of her diary she states, "Memory is a wicked thing that warps and twists. But paper and ink receive the truth without emotion, and they read it back without partiality." Towards the end, she concludes, "Or maybe—if I am honest—it is because these markings of ink and paper will one day be the only proof that I have existed in this world." The writer in me certainly relates to both of those sentiments.

One final note that touches my heart as a writer and a lover of history.

"I want the world to remember that small acts, done in love, matter every bit as much as the ones that make the newspaper and the history books."

The Dog Who Followed the Moon

It’s apropos that I listened to the audiobook version of The Dog Who Followed the Moon by James Norbury, the day Uncle Ron died, on his birthday, at age 87. It is a sweet story about a lost dog named Amaya who is rescued by an old Wolf who joins her on a quest to find her parents.

As one review states, “Eerie woods, forgotten cities, and other obstacles await Amaya and the Wolf on their adventure. As they make their way through the wilderness, the two learn profound lessons about love, sacrifice, and the importance of embracing change.”

I was moved to tears by the story’s gentle commentary on life’s journey, loss, grief, and death. This quote especially spoke to me and my own particular search for meaning:

“Somewhere inside you is a poem that you alone can write—a unique blend of what you love, what you fear, and all the things that only you’ve experienced.”

Here is more of the Wolf’s Zen advice:

“Most of our lives are spent doing the traveling, and the arrival is only a tiny part of that journey. We should do our best to enjoy every part of the adventure. Maybe we will never get to where we want to be, and wouldn’t it be sad if we had not even enjoyed the ride?”

“How do I do that?” asked Amaya. 

“Slow down, look around, breathe, take in the sounds and colors. Imagine you’d chosen this moment as your destination, not just a point along your journey.”

Finally, the Wolf reflects on his circumstances: “He’d led the pack to great victories and bitter defeats. His life was a tapestry of successes and failures, and he wondered what different choices he could have made that would have saved him from dying on this mountaintop exiled from his pack.”

The way the Wolf contemplates his life is not so different from that of most humans in the end. As it turns out, the wolf was exactly where he needed to be, in a moment that would forever impact his new friend Amaya and countless other lives moving forward. It’s reassuring to know that a life well lived will lead each of us to the same place.

At first, listening to the audiobook was disappointing because I wanted to flip the pages and see the stunning illustrations. By the end of the hour-long reading, my weeping eyes would not have been able to focus on the beautiful pictures. I plan to treat myself to a hardcover copy of the book.

Here One Moment

Here One Moment by Australian author Liane Moriarty is unnerving. It poses a lot of questions about how we live our lives and think about death—the choices we make, coincidences, and how we react to challenges. It’s a mind-fuck of a book.

It delves into personality disorders like sleepwalking, OCD, depression, and introversion, all of which I am intimately acquainted with. It documents relationships between spouses, parents and children, roommates, coworkers and bosses. As SNL’s Stefon would say, “This place has everything!“

https://youtu.be/NctoAyRDtzU?si=nIsZO4M_PreImVF0

During an unexpected delay, an airplane full of people are trapped as an older woman systematically begins sharing the manner and timing of their deaths. That in itself is terrifying—stuck for hours inside an airplane full of stale air with kids puking and babies crying—then some random crazy lady in a trance starts spewing predictions about when and how every passenger will die. She approaches each person with her mantra, “Fate can’t be fought.”

I love this reviewer’s perspective: “A riveting story so wild you don’t know how she’ll land it, and then she does, on a dime.”—Anne Lamott

The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning

The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by Margareta Magnusson caught my eye last summer, when after threatening for years to undertake a serious purging of my basement, garage, and shed, I finally followed through. I assumed it was an oldie but goodie; turns out it was published in 2018 and has even been turned into a TV series produced by Amy Poehler airing on the Peacock channel.

It was winter as I listened to the audiobook version on Libby, six months after I first requested it during the “dumpster days” of last summer. Better late than never to be introduced to the idea that your descendants won’t hate you if you put your stuff in order before you die.

“Life will become more pleasant and comfortable, if we get rid of some of the abundance.”

It’s hard to know just how much of this quirky little book is tongue-in-cheek. The proper English accent of the reader, Juliet Stevenson, combined with the eye-twinkling, dry Swedish wit of the author, Margareta Magnusson, make me smile first, and then question whether or not I’m in on the joke.

Throughout Magnusson refers to her age as “somewhere between 80 and 100,” and she has also authored The Swedish Art of Aging Exuberantly, which I might also want to take a peek at. Magnusson clearly has the credentials for both literary creations. Her perspective is straightforward and no-nonsense, seeping with common sense and practicality.

Upon beginning the daunting task of death cleaning, Magnusson suggests, “Choose a category that you believe is easy for you to handle. An easy category is one that is extensive and without too much sentimental connection.”Her recommendation is to start with clothing, and she shares helpful strategies for minimizing excess items in your wardrobe. After discussing the rationale for several of her choices, she tartly states, “But this is not a style manual. We must keep investigating, cleaning, organizing, and sorting.”

In my experience, this is a chore from which it’s very easy to become sidetracked. I can also attest to this observation, “To hunt for misplaced things is never an effective use of your time.” Too much of my precious time is spent pawing through piles and boxes searching for things I think I might have saved decades ago.

Many Swedish words translate to English in a fitting way. Here are some examples. Swedish  junk is called “skräp”. The term for toolshed that has also come to signify man cave is “snickarbod.” Another, “mansdagis,” literally means ‘a male kindergarten.’ A “fulskap” is ‘a cabinet for the ugly’ or a place to stash and display unwanted gifts. Magnusson disapproves of this practice. “If aunts and uncles see their gifts on show, they will only give you more….If you don’t like something, get rid of it.” Finally, “klumpig” means clumsy person, and it amuses me that Magnusson had a cat of that name.

It didn’t work for me, but I am aware of the Marie Kondo method of holding possessions in your hands and only keeping those that bring you JOY. This month whilst cleaning my house, having been reminded of my allergy to dust, I had a brainstorm. The monotony of cleaning provided me time to reflect about how so many of the items collecting dust in my home actually hold special meaning for me. Mementos of private jokes with friends and family, as well as tokens of appreciation I received as gifts from artists I interviewed in the 1980s. Maybe I should take pictures and write little blurbs about some of my favorite knickknacks to assemble into a book of my own.

Photographs are a whole other ball of wax that are particularly painful for me to part with; thankfully Magnusson offers this practical advice. Create memory sticks with photos to give as gifts for family members and assemble envelopes of photos for them to look through during visits.

“When you have lived a long life, it is so easy to get lost among memories from a long time ago…..By making games and events with family and friends out of the difficult job of death cleaning photographs you’ve gathered over a long life, it can be less lonely, less overwhelming, and more fun. You also do not have to carry the weight of all those memories by yourself and you are less likely to get stuck in the past.”

But how do you throw away those actual printed photos? It seems so harsh, so cruel. I have duplicate enlargements of many cherished pictures of my children retrieved from the homes of my grandparents and parents.

Magnusson’s tips are useful and sincere, and chapter titles, like the following, illustrate the deadpan humor she brings to her knowledge of this deceptively, gentle art.

Chapter 23: “If It Was Your Secret, Then Keep It That Way or How To Death Clean Hidden, Dangerous, and Secret Things.”

Chapter 25: “Collections, Collectors & Hoarders”

Chapter 33: “My Little Black Book of Passwords!”

Chapter 34: “Death Cleaning Is As Much Or More For You As For The People Who Come After”

In the last chapter of the book titled “After Life,”Magnusson concludes, “I am not qualified to give legal advice; I am just a death cleaner.”  

Indeed. I appreciate the warmth and fun Magnusson brings to this important topic.