Compilation: Twenty Books on Memoir

Next month, I plan to visit with a dear old friend who has quite a story to tell. She has asked for my assistance in getting that story down. I feel privileged and honored. Plus, it will be a great distraction from the current intensity of my own story these days. In light of that upcoming process, I compiled a list of memoirs featured on this book review blog. I had not realized the extent of my reading in memoirs. I found around 45 titles. This seemed too intense to provide, so I gleaned a baker's dozen of my favorites to offer up here:

1. Three Weeks With My Brother by Nicholas Sparks - memoir of a prominent author's travels
2. The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid by Bill Bryson - memoir of a humorist
3. Bloom by Kelle Hampton - memoir of life with a special needs baby
4. The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch - memoir of wisdom in facing death
5. The Gift of an Ordinary Day by Katrina Kenison - memoir of simple pleasures
6. Coming Clean by Kimberly Rae Miller - memoir of a hoarder
7. Colors of Goodbye by September Vaudrey - memoir of a loss of a child
8. Educated by Tara Westover - memoir of life pursuing betterment
9. Beautiful Boy by David Sheff - memoir of life with addicted son
10. An Ocean, an Airplane and Two Countries Full of Kisses by Maria Novajosky - memoir of Italian food, faith, and family
11. Surprised by Oxford by Carolyn Weber - memoir of coming to faith
12. My Wife Said You May Want to Marry Me by Jason B. Rosenthal - memoir of remarriage after death of spouse
13. Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life by Amy Krouse Rosenthal - memoir of writer's life

In addition, here are 7 books I've read on writing memoir (some involve writing in general):

1. Telling Secrets by Frederick Buechner
2. Handling the Truth by Beth Kephart
3. Fearless Confessions by Sue Silverman
4. Before We Get Started by Bret Lott
5. Letters and Life by Bret Lott
6. Old Friend from Far Away by Natalie Goldberg
7. Five Pages a Day by Peg Kehret

What about you? Do you have a life story you need to share with the world? Do you enjoy reading memoirs?

Book Review: The Extraordinary Deaths of Mrs. Kip

Sara Brunsvold is a new-to-me author. This book, The Extraordinary Deaths of Mrs. Kip, was all things good and wholesome. It was soothing, comforting, inspiring, and encouraging. If you know me, you know my quibble with Christian fiction, where the author deems the message more important than the story. Although faith coursed through the entire novel, it was never overbearing. The novel makes the reader consider how they want to die and how they wish to live.

Rookie reporter, Aidyn Kelley, is desperate for a proper assignment. She knows she could pull off a feature. Yet, her supervisor views her request as presumptuous and overreaching. Instead, she gives what seems a menial task, writing the obituary for a woman standing at death's door. When Aidyn darkens Clara Kip's nursing home, she thinks she'll be in and out. She arms herself with the requisite questions and has her goal in sight. But Clara isn't your typical hospice patient and will not reduce into a paragraph or two. She lives large and wants to die even larger. She makes a deal with Aidyn to answer 3 questions for every extraordinary death the reporter can make up for her. As Aidyn seeks ways to die extravagantly, she learns more and more about Clara. In their precious time together, Aidyn's world expands and her faith grows.

As a reader, you cannot help being drawn in to Clara's magnetic sphere. The characters become like people you know or want to know better. Long after I completed the book, my mind licked over thoughts and lessons gleaned. Thankfully, I read this just as my mother was approaching a time of hospice. It was comforting to read this account of the hospice system. The book had been in my audio queue on Hoopla for quite a while, based on recommendations. Then, I saw the author was coming to a nearby town for a book talk. I listened to the novel prior to the talk and am so glad I did. What a joy it was to listen to the author share about the inspiration and writing process for this touching and inspiring novel. 

Book Review: The Memory Library

What a fabulous idea! The mother in The Memory Library has an established habit. Every year, she purchases a book for her daughter's birthday and writes an inscription inside. The only problem? She cannot give the books to her daughter. Years ago, they had a falling out and the daughter now lives on another continent and has little to do with her.

Kate Storey weaves a touching story of the tenuous mother-daughter bond. Sally Harrison has been building a library for forty-two years. Sadly, that library, intended as a gift to her daughter, lies in ruins. Sally's memory is not what it once was. After leaving the tub to overflow, the water seeps down into her beloved library. Add in a fall that fractures her arms and Sally desperately needs her adult daughter, Ella. When Ella arrives (out of duty), she harbors all the resentments of the past. But will time together seeking to repair the library draw the two of them back together? Will it bring past truths to light?

I wished to have a daughter, or at least a child, who loves books as much as I do. With sons who are not readers, this is a pipe dream. What a cool idea, though! I loved how the inscriptions shared reasons for each book's choice and what the mother hoped the daughter would draw from each tale. This book was a love story to books and their power to change lives. I bought the e-book after reading about it in a Book Bub newsletter. Sadly, it wasn't as absorbing as I had hoped. It took several tries to get caught up in the tale. I'm glad I stuck with it. The story is worth the time, if only for exploring the fabulous idea of gifting books.

Book Review: Jane Eyre - Highly Recommend

I loved returning to this classic that I have neglected since I first read it in high school. This is considered a classic for good reason. What a beautiful and morally uplifting book! When I read it as a teen, most of the beautiful spiritual passages slipped right past me. This time around, I wished I had been reading the book physically, so I could savor those passages. Still, it was a splendid choice for my car time listening.

Jane Eyre tells the chronological story of this character's life from humble beginnings to latter fulfilment and courage. Orphaned early in life, Jane's uncle takes her in but then dies. Her aunt and cousins spurn her and send her away to a harsh and sterile boarding school. I never tired of listening to her take on her surroundings and circumstances. She has pluck! She narrates with honesty and feeling.

Jane completes her education and works for a spell as a teacher at the school. Determined to pursue her own path, she places an advertisement for work as a governess. She has never encountered the feelings stirred by exposure to her commanding master, Mr. Rochester. Yet, secrets linger about the place. Her path is far from certain and life holds further obstacles to surmount.

While Wuthering Heights is full of atmospheric tension, this book fully develops the characters. It stirs relational tensions between intention and desire. As the secrets are uncovered, the reader walks alongside Jane Eyre in her travels and her travails with a desire to remain upright and true to herself. The writing itself is beautiful. The spiritual applications are appropriate. In enjoying this book, I want to seek further books by this fine author. I found a documentary on Kanopy about the three Bronte sisters and their alcoholic brother. It was very difficult to watch and makes me all the more impressed with the skills these sisters possessed and shared with the world.

Mid-month Mention: My Mom's Celebration of Life Service

While none of us relished the reason for this reunion, my family enjoyed catching up on each other's lives during the weekend of my mother's celebration of life service. We had not had such a gathering since the December 2018 post-Christmas gathering in our home. Despite glitches that interrupted the whole family gathering, I think everyone who came was blessed in greeting and spending time with one another. It is quite an undertaking to bring 32 people together. (We were missing 3 from my family and 2 from my sister's. My husband was still battling pain from his hernia site and felt he needed to be near the home-front for our younger boys and dog. My sister's sons couldn't get off work because they had just missed some for their other grandmother's celebration of life service.)

Without much planning time, flight prices were high. To halve our expenses, my younger brother Tim and I shared a rental car and a hotel room. The reason I have billed this post as a mid-month mention is because the hotel we stayed in deserves a resounding mention. The only hotel we found in Largo that could accommodate 5 people was the Home 2 Suites. It was an outstanding room with 2 queen beds and a pull-out couch bed (my billet space for the duration). We kept remarking that it felt as if they had anticipated our every need. The room boasted a full size refrigerator, a microwave, glass dishware, and a dishwasher. It was chock full of space for placing items (with shelves on the walls and drawers beneath counter-top space), plus it had a rolling table/desk and chair. 

It was the breakfast buffet that launched this hotel into top rating in my book. I have never seen such an extensive display of options in a moderately-priced hotel. With choices of fruits, cereals, bread and muffins, yogurt, hard boiled eggs, oatmeal, about 12 choices of hot sandwiches and omelets, a Belgian waffle machine, and a whole host of toppings available (like chocolate chips, strawberry sauce, syrup, peanut butter, etc.), it was hard to narrow in on what you wanted to eat. I had an Applewood bacon/egg/swiss on a ciabatta one morning, and a turkey sausage and swiss on an English muffin another morning. Last time I stayed there (with my sister in January 2023), they had my specific kind of creamer preference (Coffee Mate hazelnut), but this time I settled for the French Vanilla.

On Saturday morning, Tim's kids went to the outdoor pool. On Sunday morning, I used the hotel rec room to walk on a treadmill. We were given a goodie bag of waters and treats upon our arrival and my brother's name was pegged into a welcome screen on the television. Every detail made our stay more enjoyable. I highly recommend Home 2 Suites.

The family was set to meet up for a family lunch my dad had catered at The St. Petersburg Citadel Corps, where the celebration of life service would be held at 3. Sadly, we were all late except for him. He arrived and texted to find out where everyone else was. Tim, his kids, and I arrived first, then my oldest brother and his extensive family (his 3 children have given my dad 5 great-grandchildren):

(Tim's daughter, Amelia, holding Kari's adopted son, Shepherd)

Next, my brother Mark's family (5 of their kids, apart from their oldest son who drove on his motorcycle from KY for the event). Then, we saw Bryce and Elizabeth arrive. We enjoyed the time at various tables. Sadly, my sister and her family only caught the tail-end because she was still finalizing many difficulties with the cardstock programs for the service.

We had hoped to have a video of the service posted on FB, but when we went to view it later, it said, "This video has no sound." Very disappointing, as several who couldn't make it had expressed a desire to watch it later. At the front of the sanctuary, sat a large photo of my mother:

My younger brother went first for the family tributes. Fearing my older brother, Mark, had backed out (his expressed intent on Friday night), I went up next. My niece captured a video:

Then, Mark gave a quite lengthy talk (perhaps more sermon than tribute - ha! I worried he might be taking thoughts Dawn intended to present in her eulogy). I was glad they opened it up for 1-2 sentence tributes by people in the church. Dawn's thoughts were helpful and well-done. Before we knew it, the service was over. Everyone was invited to the fellowship hall for snacks of my mother's favorite foods: burgers, onion rings, and Coke. We were able to snag multiple photos of various family groups (if others had not taken them, I would have nothing to show for this event, as I'm no photographer).

Flights were more expensive on Sunday, so many of us stuck around until Monday. Tim, his youngest daughter Amelia, and I all spent the day with my dad. We took him to church, then out for lunch and then sat in his apartment together. 

I'm glad we were able to share time with him before we departed on Monday. I'm glad I spent most of my time with my youngest brother and his kids (they are a hoot and provided some much-needed levity for my weekend away). Although the circumstances bringing us together were sad, I think everyone really felt blessed by the time we were able to spend with one another.

Book Review: Tree. Table. Book.

As soon as I saw this new title from Lois Lowry (Newbery award-winning author of The Giver), I put my name on my library's hold list. I read Tree. Table. Book. in one day. Lowry weaves an intergenerational tale of an 11-year-old girl, Sophie, whose best friend is her 88-year-old neighbor with the same name, Sophie. The young Sophie is anxious because the old Sophie is experiencing cognitive decline. Older Sophie's son is coming for a visit to take her to the doctor for some tests. Young Sophie decides she will test her best friend all on her own, using the Merck Manual. As she prods Sophie's memory, she learns stories of her past that have been long kept hidden. While the story is heart-wrenching, it provides a touching account of a child's encounter with dementia. Lowry once again taps in on deep emotional truths and presents a flawless story.

Book Review: The Getaway Girls

 

I can't remember how I happened upon Dee MacDonald's The Getaway Girls. Perhaps I searched for "light-hearted reads," or "wholesome and funny." The cover (maybe glimpsed on Amazon) may have pulled me in, with blurbs like "Feel-good," "Wonderful," "Inspirational," and "Laugh-out-loud." I mistook the word inspirational, to have religious implications. It did not, but was none-the-less a funny, easy read.

Connie McColl is wrapping up a flower arranging class. With a sudden strike of wanderlust, she purchases an RV. Before she knows it, two of the class members, Gill and Maggie, have invited themselves along on her adventure to Italy to seek for long-lost relatives. Both Gill and Maggie have their own reasons to get away, and their own diverse personalities as well. The obstacles Connie, Gill, and Maggie encounter along their journey only solidify their newfound friendship. If you are looking for a simple beach read for your vacation, Dee MacDonald delivers.

Book Review: Origins of a Story

What a fun little book exploring the idea of story germs that led various authors! In Origins of a Story, Jake Grogan compiles 202 stories of inspiration for some truly great works of literature. Of course, the explanations behind books I knew (having read or watched 77) were more interesting than unfamiliar ones. Still, I came away with appreciation for the various ways writers encounter a creative impetus, as well as more titles on my to-be-read list. Some stories were familiar (the advice given to Dickens to change the ending of Great Expectations or the Reys' transportation and transformation of Curious George). All were interesting.

I identified with many of the vignettes listed in this book. Although I have only published one book, I have written ten complete and two partial manuscripts. For one, a title popped into my head, just like Madeleine L'Engle's eureka moment with the names of her characters. (I found it intriguing that L'Engle wrote A Wrinkle in Time one year after she had "sworn off writing for good, citing her inability to earn a living as a forty-year-old woman despite all the of the time and effort that she put in." And she still persevered because that manuscript received 25 rejections before finding a publisher.) For me, one what-if premise sprang from a difficulty a relative was facing. My middle-grade novel grew from my experience as a pre-teen and one of my YA novels came from finding a stray bone during a walk with my husband. Everything I have written has an autobiographical element. Yet, one action some of these authors took was foreign to me. Several authors threw out manuscripts and rewrote them again from scratch, something I have never done.

So many of these brief stories were fascinating. In the section discussing Ordinary People (one I've heard of but neither read nor seen), the author explains her desire to write about the difficulty one has when experiencing the fluctuations of depression. Although I don't relish reading about suicide, the book sounds more intriguing after reading the impetus that motivated the author. In outlining Stephen King's story germ for Misery, it made me want to read Evelyn Waugh's short story, "The Man Who Loved Dickens." Holes grew from the anguish of yard work in the summer in Texas. (Perhaps I should tell Bryce to avoid this, ha!) In discussing Jane Eyre (a book I was listening to while reading Grogan's book), I learned that Charlotte Bronte's two younger sisters died of tuberculosis, just like a character in the book, something I didn't know. I wasn't aware that S. E. Hinton wrote The Outsiders when she was 15-years-old. All in all, this was quite an interesting read, especially so for a writer.

When the Way is Fraught With Grief and Fear

I am in the throes of grief and anxiety. This week has tested me sorely, and I have felt isolated and alone in the midst of it all. Yes, I cling to the Lord, but that doesn't hold the fears and sorrows at bay. Sometimes the trials pile on in ways that feel overwhelming and unendurable. While I cannot share all of what plagues our lives at the moment, even the smaller details loom large on my heart.

I will back up some, to Wednesday, 6/18, when my husband finally could address the pain and discomfort he has endured for months. We arrived at 9 to prepare for his 11 a.m. hernia surgery. Sadly, just before they wheeled him to the OR, the power went out in the hospital (and, we learned, all over Danville, IN). They do not perform elective surgeries when they are on back-up generators, so we waited for the power to be restored. The wait was excruciating for John because he had consumed nothing since the night before. This left him parched and unable to receive any liquid. Once they restored the power, we faced new delays. They had to reduce the humidity that had grown in the OR rooms during the outage, and every surface had to be re-cleaned. They didn't wheel him back until 3 p.m.

Praising God that the surgery went well, and he woke from it. Apparently, there had been three hernias to address. Recovery went far more quickly six years ago, when he had hernia surgery on his right side. That is probably because of age (after all, he is over 60 now) rather than the number of hernias found. The pain in that area persists. He assumes it is from the mesh inserted that is still healing with scar tissue to settle in place. He gets stabbing pains, especially when trying to get in or out of a car. I asked him to check with the doctor to see if they consider such pain normal, but he wanted to wait for the follow-up appointment in several weeks. Thankfully, he called on Friday, but they have not yet returned his call. We continue to wonder why his body is in such pain after the hernia repair.

Meanwhile, my mother was declining. She forgot how to eat and my dad had to feed her meals. She struggled with breathing, so they reduced many of her meds and put her on oxygen. On Saturday, 6/22, she was no longer chewing and swallowing the food, so they instructed my dad to stop feeding her solids. By Monday, 6/24, her body began shutting down (high fever and swelling) and they said if anyone wanted to come see her before her passing, they should come soon. 

I felt torn. Much as I would have wanted to have some final moments with her, I doubted she would recognize my presence or absence and going then would mean two trips to Florida (on top of all the many flights we have paid for this year to Florida and Texas). I did not go. Of course, some may have felt we should all rush down there, but the distance and cost made it challenging. Moreover, I prefer memories of her in a communicative state, instead of the bedside vigil with her barely breathing. (Albeit, my last day with my mother did not leave pleasant memories, so I cling to the happy moments we shared during my week of caring for her in March while my father recovered from heart surgery). My sister flew down immediately and my older brother arrived the following day.

During all this, we were dealing with intense chaos at home (prodigal related and marriage related). The marital friction only compounded my feelings of isolation and loneliness in approaching my mother's departure. I no longer have the outlet of counseling. The troubles with my son often seem more than I can bear. My husband and I are not in agreement as to the best course of action, so instead we retreat into inaction, clinging solely to prayer (begging God to intervene where we seem incapable).

As for my mother, there was the uncertainty of when the passing will occur. They said she had pneumonia. What if she battled and rallied, only to linger in hospice for a long time? That is not an unusual occurrence. The waiting and the uncertainty added depth to the grieving process.

My mother passed away on the afternoon of Thursday, 6/27th. Although she has been mentally gone from us for almost a decade, I grieve her loss nonetheless. We shared a special bond, joined by our love of writing and reading. She was the most supportive individual I have had for my writing. She read my blog religiously and encouraged me to keep plowing away, when public recognition of my writing has seemed out of reach. Even apart from my writing, she boosted my spirits by always writing back to my letters (something she said she appreciated from me, as well). We shared books we had read and loved. We often read books at the other's recommendation. She nurtured, she loved, she encouraged, she uplifted me. She listened without plowing straight into instruction and advice.

I wish I could be more like her. She never felt ill-will towards others. Despite a reserved personality, she expressed love and encouragement to those around her. Her voice, reading anything, was eloquent and sweet. Her handwriting, impeccable, with precision and beauty. My handwriting used to be like hers, but over time, mine has become a scrawl. And her laugh! What a beautiful laugh. It tinkled with joy.

I spent some time re-reading some emails I still have on my computer. Her sense of humor shines through. When a paint can fell on her head, requiring six staples in her skull, she regaled me with details of the event: "The doctor comes in and tells me that everything looked fine - I still have a brain... They did let me take a shower... but couldn't let the shower hit directly on the area. It was hard to do because I had so much blood in my hair. I looked like a 'punk rocker' with red hair sticking out all over. Unfortunately (no make that fortunately), we didn't take a picture. So that's why I didn't write yesterday." 

After a kidney stone interrupted their trip to a St. Louis Salvation Army conference, she ended her letter with "Love, your cast-in-stone Mom." Another time, she wrote, "We have two books we've bought regarding selling things on E-bay, but apparently just having the books in your house does not accomplish anything." Ha! I can relate. Sometimes she responded with humor to my faux pas: "Regarding the movie [you intend] to show John, please don't look for one called 'God is Dead' because that would not be a good movie. The movie was called 'God's Not Dead' and hurrah for that!"

In February 2016, when she failed to write me back, I feared I had offended her. I wrote to her, "I worried I offended you by asking how you were doing with the ability to retain what you read. I hope you are doing very well. I so enjoy talking about books with you and when the dementia was first diagnosed, I felt such incredible sadness that we might lose the tender bond books give us." She assured me she was not offended, but all correspondence with her evaporated after June 2016, so my fears came true. Our bond over books dissolved.

My dad captured this beautiful image of her in 2022. She is in the dining room where she so often smiled and greeted others with repeated messages of love and encouragement.

This is the last photo I took of her when her mental acuity was fully intact. It was from the vacation Trevor and I took to visit my parents in Florida during the spring break of 2015.

This is the last photo I had taken of the two of us together during my visit to care for her in my father's absence while he recovered from his heart surgery.

Here is a link to a video I have of my mom reciting a poem for another individual's celebration of life. It seems fitting to share this video and these words upon her own passing. I apologize because I could not figure out how to increase the volume. It is very soft, but the words, and my mother's fine reading are sweet. (You can click on the CC - closed captioning - button and the words will appear for you, to make it easier.)

As difficult as the grieving process may be, the troubles in our home loom far more threatening. If you are a praying person, please lift our family to God's throne. We need His intervention desperately. We are hanging by a thread. That careless and flippant phrase rises to the surface: "God never gives you more than you can handle!" Not true! Indeed, He gives us more than we can handle to remind us we cannot handle things on our own strength. We have a thorn in the flesh and nothing will remove it. But may God grant us grace to live with what we've been called to carry and wisdom to pray and act in ways that are pleasing to Him.