A couple of weeks ago I wrote about a book I'm not loving.
The End of Your Life Book Club by Will Schwalbe seems like a book I'd absolutely adore and read in one day. It's well written and about books for crying out loud! What's not to love? But, I haven't connected with it. I've been forcing myself to read a page here and there just to get through it. Finally though, I've hit a spot that really clenched my heart. I'm about 30 pages from the end and without spoiling anything, the main character mother is on hospice care. Things have gotten seriously real with her cancer and suddenly I've found the emotion that had been lacking. Will and his mom (Mary Ann) have read John Updike's book Tears of My Father: And Other Stories, a collection of short stories. Will asks her which was her favorite story. She says, "the first one". It deals with death, which is currently hanging over her head like a velvet curtain. She directs Will to read this passage about a 55th class reunion:
This passage truly resonated with me. I don't think any of us, once we are out of what we'd consider the prime of our lives, thinks of ourselves as any less than prime. I know in my own head, I still feel like I'm 17, or maybe 21 or even 27, which was a very good year. I imagine that will continue as I age, and frankly, I kind of like that idea. The idealism of a room full of the rather aged still feeling like round cheeked beauties is lovely. I also like that I've finally connected with Mary Ann, a truly remarkable woman who until this point in her story has felt at least an arms length from me. At last, I feel I've really seen something very personal about her, about how she feels about her stage of life. I know now that these final 30ish pages will fly by, and when all is said and done I may look back on the book as a whole with affection.
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