Book Review: The Summer of Second Chances

This cover, along with a dementia story line, drew me. I rarely read young adult novels because so many published today have an agenda or are filled with scenes I wouldn't want teens reading. K.L. Walther, in The Summer of Second Chances, hints at a bedroom scene, but does not confirm it with details. To be honest, it implies that the father (who changed his daughter's vacation accomodations to avoid indiscretions) now suddenly gives permission for her to share a tent with her boyfriend overnight, unsupervised. That was a bit of a stretch for me. But, the storyline was interesting enough.

Olivia Lupo spends much of her days visiting her beloved grandmother at the assisted living facility in the memory care unit. Her grandmother raised her after the death of Olivia's mother. Now, Olivia's step-mother is convinced she needs to get away from the intensity of these visits. The family heads to spend 3 weeks on Martha's Vineyard. The only reason Olivia goes along with this plan is because she recently discovered her grandmother spent summers in that location and may have had a romance. She decides to retrace her grandmother's steps, following some photos she discovers in an old box.

I struggled with my mother's dementia before her death. It is hard to separate the emotional outbursts and sometimes caustic behavior from the parent you wish was still in there. My mother raged at me (even cursing me) on my final visit with her. That is shattering. I cannot imagine facing that as a teen. Walther faithfully portrays the emotional tension and heartbreak. Despite the deep subject, the romance was lighthearted and fun. Although I have never been to Martha's Vineyard, I would imagine a reader familiar with that area would enjoy re-visiting those scenes vicariously. In the end, I rooted for a happy ending for Olivia.

Book Review: The Life She Forgot

Almost a year ago, I discovered and joined a Christian Fiction Scavenger Hunt. It was not only fun, but also introduced me to a host of new-to-me authors. I signed on for several author newsletters and that is how I first came to know about Joanna Davidson Politano's books. I borrowed The Curious Inheritance of Blakely House from my library. Sadly, my stack of current reads kept me from it and other readers in the hold line were eager for their turn. When she mentioned a launch team for The Life She Forgot in her newsletter, I jumped at the chance.

The Life She Forgot is an Edwardian dual-timeline historical mystery set on the Cornish coast. It is the first book in Politano's House on the Edge of the Cliff series. You can pre-order the Kindle version and it will be auto-delivered on April 21, 2026.

It is 1913 and Merryn cannot remember who she is or where she is from. Three years ago, Lady St. Laurent took her in, grateful that Merryn saved her 7-year-old grandson Cecil from being hit by a car (the act that brought on her amnesia). At Lady St. Laurent's death, her will stipulates that Merryn will receive a small fortune and guardianship of the boy. However, Lady St. Laurent's daughter Sabine will receive the house. Sabine feels cheated and is determined to have Merryn declared unfit and sent to an asylum.

Merryn's only hope seems to be in proposing marriage to the young man she met at the park three weeks ago, A.J. Winthrop. She doesn't know herself, let alone anything about this young man, but she is desperate to retrieve her memory and prove her ability to care for Cecil. Can she trust A.J.? Will he help her restore her memories? Then, memories of another man and another wedding begin to surface. She hopes a trip to Cornwall will bring clarity, but she is being followed and time is running out.

In 1947, William Thatcher is plagued by memories of the war. He leaves his wife behind (thinking it is in her best interest) when he inherits Dunn Cottage on the Cornish coast. He doesn't even know Anwen Dunn. Why would she leave him the cottage? He is drawn to a painting of a woman and determined to find out the story and value of the portrait. Can he prove its provenance and secure enough funds to send back to his wife? Why does he think she'd be better off without him?

Although there are several storylines and characters to keep track of, the two timelines interweave, even to the point of sharing ending and beginning lines in chapters. I enjoyed so many things about this novel. On the one hand, memories can plague a person. On the other hand, losing memory is like losing the essence of yourself. Multiple questions lure the reader and ramp up the plot repeatedly. Merryn is in a race against time to retrieve her memory so she can save herself and Cecil.

This book considers identity, parenting, greed, and marriage. Both William and Merryn have made mistakes in the past that haunt them in the present. Both struggle with their marriages. I loved the line, "Marriage is the Russian Roulette of humanity--deposit yourself firmly in the arms of another and hope they deign to catch you every day of your life." We all enter marriages unaware of what the future holds. Sometimes we wound one another. Sometimes we save one another. If you're looking for a Christian historical novel full of intrigue in a beautiful coastal setting, The Life She Forgot, will woo you and win you.

Book Review: The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife - Highly Recommend

The Borrowed Life of Frederick Fife has been called a "funny and moving," "charming and clever," "sweet, touching life-swap adventure you won't want to miss." It is a great debut novel, billed as perfect for fans of two of my favorite novels, A Man Called Ove and Remarkably Bright Creatures. I'm a sucker for redemptive stories and this one was a good one. The willful suspension of disbelief, while taxed, was worth it for this zany tale of mistaken identity. Kindness goes a long way in a world full of hurt and pain.

82-year-old Frederick Fife is in a rough patch. He misses his deceased wife. His money and his house paid for her cancer treatments. He is facing homelessness when an odd series of events thrusts him into a world he doesn't deserve. Bernard Greer and Fred bear an uncanny resemblance. Thus, when Bernard disappears at a park outing, nursing home nurses take Fred home, thinking he's Bernard. Fred tries to set the record straight, but because Bernard typically responded with dementia-addled comments, nobody will believe Fred. Thus, he settles into Bernard's life, loving the care he receives at Bernard's nursing home. Bernard was grumpy, blind, and incontinent. Fred is endearing, lucid, and well-meaning. He is a man of integrity and kindness, intent upon remedying Bernard's blunders from the past. But how long until his mistaken identity comes to light? And is he really not hurting anyone by his deception?

I related to the issues Anna Johnston addressed within these pages: "grief, dementia, social isolation, cancer, and addiction" (as quoted in the author's extensive and interesting acknowledgements). I loved how the story lines merged. The beauty of Fred's intervention in broken lives made me wish for a Fred in my life. This was a lovely, feel-good story, even when things seemed beyond belief. Readers will root for Fred and his willingness to ride the fortuitous wave in order to help others around him. The book illustrates how older adults are often invisible or overlooked. It highlights the deep need we all have to belong and to forgive. It is a tale of second chances and redeemed brokenness. Magnificent! When they make this into a movie (some hints within the closing pages), I'll be there in the first row!

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.

Compilation: Science

Photo by Robina Weermeijer on Unsplash

In skimming my book reviews over the past decade, I found 20 science reads, most of them focused on the brain or genetics. I list them in no particular order:

1. The Emperor of All Maladies by Siddhartha Mukherjee - hefty tome on cancer
2.  The XX Brain by Lisa Mosconi, PhD - preventing Alzheimer's in female brains
3. The Body by Bill Bryson - an often humorous field guide to the intricacies of the human body
4. A Molecule Away from Madness by Sara Manning Peskin - when brain molecules go errant
5. Biohack Your Brain by Kristen Willeumier, PhD - boost cognitive health, performance, and power
6. Remember by Lisa Genova - the science of memory
7. Twelve Weeks to a Sharper You by Sanjay Gupta, MD - guide to building a better brain
8. The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk, MD - healing from trauma
9. The Circadian Code by Satchin Panda, PhD - the importance of what and when you consume
10. An Elegant Defense by Matt Richtel - the science of the immune system
11. The Aging Brain by Timothy R. Jennings, MD - preventing dementia and sharpening your mind
12. She Has Her Mother's Laugh by Carl Zimmer - the science of heredity
13. The Genius Factory by David Plotz - the science/history of genetic engineering
14. The Gene by Siddhartha Mukherjee - hefty tome on the science of genetics
15. Mozart's Brain and the Fighter Pilot by Richard Restak, MD - enhancing your brain's potential
16. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot - powerful impact of HELA cells
17. The Human Blueprint by Robert Shapiro - the science of genetics
18. The End of Alzheimer's by Dale E. Bredesen, MD - prevent and reverse cognitive decline
19. Brain Maker by David Perlmutter, MD - how the gut heals and protects the brain
20. The Teenage Brain by Frances E. Jensen, MD - explores the challenges of undeveloped adolescent brains

If I had to select my five favorites from this list, they would be: The End of Alzheimer's, The Gene, She Has Her Mother's Laugh, The Body Keeps the Score, and The Circadian Code.

Pressing Prayers Follow-up

The need for prayer continues, but here's a brief follow-up to my recent pressing prayers:

My parents - My dad's quadruple bypass heart surgery on February 22nd went well. He had three 99% blockages and one 70% blockage. His continued vitality is a gift to our whole family. My sister went to stay with my mother during the week of his hospitalization. Thankfully, some gracious church members came over for a few hours each day, allowing Dawn to visit my dad in the hospital. He assumed he would be in the hospital for a week and then return fully capable of providing my mother's care.

As Dawn's departure date approached, we realized he could not manage this on his own while recovering from open heart surgery. Thus, I scrambled to schedule a last-minute flight (the most expensive kind, sadly) and I went to provide their care for the second week after his surgery. As Dawn was preparing to leave, she was greatly distressed to learn that their assisted living facility requires a post-surgery stint in a rehabilitation facility. I was extremely grateful for this development. 

He was transported to a rehab facility that is aligned with their community and is only 1/10th of a mile away. Thus, two days after I arrived, I walked my mother over (in her power wheelchair) to his facility, picked him up and walked them back to their apartment, pushing him in a wheelchair (forming a hilarious wheelchair parade) while carefully avoiding ruts in the sidewalk. He had hoped to pay his March rent while home, but the bill had not yet arrived. So, he ended up coming to visit 2 more times before finally returning home for good on the day of my departure.

Given the stress and strain of caring for my Alzheimer's-afflicted mother, I was grateful that he was receiving excellent care separate from the apartment. Believe me, I had my hands full. Plus, I now have an increased awareness and appreciation for all my father does to meet my mother's care needs. Her schedule of meds, meals, bathroom trips, and eye drops was exhausting. We survived several messy challenges and a few Alzheimer-induced episodes of agitation. Humor helped get us through. I had packed slogan t-shirts exclusively. Every few minutes, she asked to read my shirt again. 😂

While I was grateful for the time spent with my mother in their apartment, I was thrilled to return to my quiet, unharried life at home in Indiana with my boy gang. She was cooperative and thankful for my care, for the most part. She did not remember who I was (apart from a few instances when she answered that question correctly), but seemed to sense that I was someone special to her and someone she could rely on to meet her needs. A few times, she said, "You take such good care of me." Twice during the night, when coughing spells would overtake her, I was able to rub her arm and pray with her. The cough went away after both prayers. Praise God! I was also blessed by her reaction to my book. I brought one along with me and read to her the words of dedication, thanking her for her spiritual, emotional, and literary encouragement. She seemed lucid and genuinely touched. When I read her a few of the poems, she responded with appreciation. How much really got in, I don't know. But I tried to communicate that piece.

I believe my mother is at the point of needing the professional, round-the-clock care of an Alzheimer's ward. My father still seems hesitant to make that change. He doesn't want her over-medicated (although, her current meds are already at a level that I struggled with). He wants to give her the comfort of his continued presence. Yet, I think he would still be able to visit with her for a majority of the day, while knowing her more intense needs are met by nursing professionals. I also gained respect for the nurses who provide tireless care. Those who came in to bathe my mother were patient and loving, even as she fought them. 

For me, the most difficult episode came toward the end of my visit. It was already stressful enough because my ride to the airport was scheduled to arrive at 3 p.m. This hinged on my father's anticipated release at 11 (always in question, because those facilities don't often sign you out when expected) and my brother's arrival (driving from KY) at 1 p.m. Thankfully, as hoped, my dad returned around 11 and my brother arrived shortly after noon. Because of prostate issues, my dad was still using a catheter and the line had ruined his few pairs of pants. Thus, at 1:45, he suddenly remembered he wanted Mark to take him to purchase new pants and pick up one of my mother's prescriptions. Within moments, he went from sitting snuggled right next to my mother on the couch, to shuffling out the door and off to the store and pharmacy.

If you've ever encountered an Alzheimer's patient, you know that abrupt changes can trigger agitation. This was agitation on steroids. She did NOT want me there and let me know it with a barrage of vehement words. She resented my not allowing her to go with her "friend." Even though I understood that her verbal attack was simply her Alzheimer's raging, it is hard not to feel emotional in such situations. Then, she grabbed up her walker and threatened to go find her mother. I followed her at a distance and tried to text my dad to request his return. No response. She was about to enter someone else's apartment. I talked her out of that and eventually she tired enough to sit on the hallway bench. Eager to get her back into her apartment, I suggested we look for her mother in her apartment. She went in, closed the door quickly behind her, and locked me out. 

Thankfully, a nurse at the nurse's station unlocked the door and encouraged my mom to sit on the couch. I scrambled to put on her favorite musical, Meet Me in St. Louis (something that always occupies her thoroughly), and avoided any eye contact until Mark and my dad returned (at 2:50 p.m.). When I gave hasty good-byes, my mother looked up with sad eyes and said, "Oh, you have to go???" She had no memory of her intense railing against me. Such is the disease.

Although my dad sailed through the first two weeks of recovery, he is experiencing more fatigue now. His body is working full-time to repair from the invasive surgery. Thankfully, my brother was able to provide assistance for two weeks. We continue to pray for his recovery and the best possible arrangements for care for both of my parents.

Meanwhile, on the home front:

John - At my husband's doctor appointment, the hernia surgeon said it was NOT a hernia, but rather just a weak area in the abdominal wall. Of course, the bulging didn't occur while in the doctor's office. After a few weeks of further bulging and discomfort, John called again and requested further testing. With his prior hernia, 6 years ago, he didn't experience the pain he is having this time around. It continues to bulge and to cause radiating pain in his lower abdomen. He underwent an ultrasound, but that was not helpful in identifying the source of the pain either. For now, he has been told twice now, "Monitor the pain and take a photo when the bulge appears." It is frustrating to have no answers and face continued pain. He now wears a hernia belt, and that helps somewhat. We will persist in praying for God to give the doctors wisdom to ferret out the source of this issue. Our spring visit to Texas is tentatively scheduled in May. Praying we will not have to alter those flight arrangements.

Trevor - In addition to January's loss of Trevor's car, he was experiencing dissatisfaction with his fast food job. Then, in February, he lost his job. This (in addition to his insistence on repairing his beloved car) added further turmoil. We are praising God that he was able to find another job after a few weeks of looking. Now, if we could get the damaged car off our lawn (next to the driveway), it would be marvelous. He has a friend with some mechanical skills and they attempted to replace the part where the wheel bent away from the axle. If they can get that repaired and replace the tire that took the impact of the hit to the bridge, he's hoping (since the car still starts) they will be able to move it into the garage. These challenges have wrought a change in him and we suspect there may be something going on, of which we are unaware. We continue to pray for his job and car situations, and for the sense of responsibility these issues require. We also pray for parenting wisdom as he remains living in our home.

Sean - While I was gone in Florida (assisting my parents), Sean suffered a knee injury after playing basketball with friends. He has joined male volleyball at school, so instead of resting it, he was jumping on it and causing more stress and strain. We finally scheduled a doctor appointment and he was instructed to take an NSAID, stay off the leg for two weeks, and ice it twice a day for a half hour. We continue to pray for the knee to heal properly so he can participate in the rest of the games in the volleyball season. Thankfully, he has not had another episode of accidental almond ingestion.

We praise God that He remains constant and available in every crisis and challenge. May His love guide us through each trial, and may we give Him all the glory!