"This Is My Life. I Am Trying"

I was introduced to some of author Anna Quindlen's books while going through my mother's things after she had died on April 27, 2004. Bunny (my mom's nickname - most didn't even know her name was Rita) had become a voracious reader and crossword puzzle lover, reveling in the luxury of the time afforded by her senior status, and finally slowed by the effects of extensive arthritis. Throughout her 92 years, her mind hummed with gracious thoughts, deep faith gained through acceptance of God's decisions, and the conviction of one's common sense dictating one's actions.


One of my fondest memories is that of my mom and I taking Erin to her weekly piano lesson. The public library is located a couple of blocks away from the music school. Each Wednesday we'd park at the school, leave Erin at her lesson and slowly walk to the library, where my mom would choose as many large-print books as I could comfortably carry (her seven days worth of reading) and then we'd walk on back to pick up Erin. That 1/2 hour was the perfect allotment of time, and it became a treasured routine, now an etched image. I can so clearly envision the fully intact, tri-generational sequence ~ Erin at age 10, myself at 43, and Bunny at 90.



Among my mom's belongings was a copy of "A Short Guide to a Happy Life". Written in 2000, this concise book offers sage advice to some who find themselves focused on matters that they may eventually discover are of no great significance, while urging them to turn attention to the often unnoticed details of life.

The intro on the book jacket, that I have to admit didn't grab me so much just six years ago when I discovered it, and now for obvious reasons holds new meaning, reads ~

"Knowledge of our own mortality is the greatest gift God ever gives us, because unless you know the clock is ticking, it is so easy to waste our days, our lives."

The author of this book, Pulitzer Prize-winner Anna Quindlen, was 19 years old at the time her mother died of ovarian cancer at the age of 40. The once New York Times columnist, who also wrote Newsweek's the "Last Word" column from 2000-2009, has written several bestselling novels and works of non-fiction.

In this particular book she pinpoints the pronounced dividing line drawn in her world due to her mother's illness, causing a defined BEFORE and AFTER.

My life will forever be divided into BEFORE and AFTER by Erin's cancer diagnosis date ~ December 15, 2006

She continues on to emphasize the important difference between one's work and one's life, and expresses pride in her roles as mother, wife and friend. In reference to those relationships, she repeats the straightforward and uncomplicated statement ~
"I show up. I listen. I try to laugh."

Last week I was fortunate to hear Anna Quindlen speak at a local book store while promoting the release of her most recent novel "Every Last One". It's always exciting for me to hear an author read an excerpt from a book they've written. As she read a chapter, I closed my eyes and listened as she gave voice and first-hand credibility to the characters she had created, breathing life into what my mind can only imagine when I read someone else's work. Afterward, she shared some information about her very interesting life, and answered the audience's questions with candor, wit and humor, and then we were given the opportunity to have our books autographed.

I finished reading my book yesterday, and I have to say I feel as though many of my thoughts have just been written by this famous author who has composed my experiences with a trained, literary eloquence I can only dream of. This book is not about a child dying of cancer. It is a first-person narrative about the occurrence of another type of tragedy, which results in uncannily similar feelings and reactions by the mother, Mary Beth Latham. Even though the cause of the protagonist's pain is a completely different set of circumstances, as I turned the pages I felt as though I was white-knuckling the same towrope in the wake she rode in the aftermath.

The book is about BEFORE and AFTER. The BEFORE is about mostly-normal life in an average family; husband, kids, employment, topped with some foreboding issues. Every family has issues. It's written in artful language, without falling prey to the trite verbiage I feel is typically used by many authors as they attempt to convey the natural rhythm of day-to-day life.

The AFTER is written in a manner that so accurately parallels my thoughts that I feel as though Ms Quindlen has been almost voyeuristically roaming around in my head. As the main character walks through her days in the residue of her personal tragedy, I walked in likeness of so many instances. The way she wrote about
~ awakening from the peace of a dreamless sleep to the abrupt reality of each new day's uncontrollable mind-video of constant replay and fast-forward - with Erin/without Erin, happened at one time/will never be again...
~ the luxury of feeling ordinary for brief moments in time.
~ the struggle to be genuinely pleased for the happiness and good fortune of others without the underlying I-want-it-to-be-me tone reverberating in the back of the head.
~ the wide variety of reactions on the part of the community toward her, and hers toward them.
~ the fear of opening boxes containing personal treasures and notes.
One scene evoked memories of the pain I felt while watching Erin receive letters of interest from colleges who had seen her play volleyball when she was 15 (pre cancer, pre life-altering leg surgery), who were pursuing the possibility of her playing volleyball with them now that she was of the age that was legal per NCAA guidelines to contact potential team members. I never told her, but I grabbed some of those letters as they showed up in the mailbox so she wouldn't see them when she got home from school.

There were so many areas where I found common ground and, through the use of many tissues, I thought the book was fabulous. Last week after Ms Quindlen spoke, I chose to have my book autographed.

When it was my turn, I babbled something about being introduced to her writing through my mother who was no longer living, that I was so happy about finding her books when my mom died and that I'd gone on to read several others. I told her I enjoyed listening to her speak and then unexpectedly blurted out, "And my daughter died from cancer last December." I don't offer that information in the beginning of a conversation with a perfect stranger, especially in a situation that calls for a bit of decorum, and at that time I had not yet read the book and knew absolutely nothing detailed about the story line. Most likely, my comment resurrected memories of Ms Quindlen's intimacy with her own mother's cancer, and she uttered kind words about "having trouble imagining this situation with a child" and then looked me in the eyes, held my gaze with a look of deep compassion, and said, "I'm so humbled by your experience."
She autographed my book "For Mary - one mom to another-"

Regrettably, because I found the books after my mom died, I was never able to ask her about her thoughts concerning any of Quindlen's writing or about the advice in "A Short Guide to a Happy Life". I so often wonder about what her reactions to Erin's cancer would have been. I do have a hunch that Bunny would have concurred with Ms Quindlen's advice~

"I show up. I listen. I try to laugh."


And I concur, with that advice and with the unmistakably perfect last lines of "Every Last One" ~

"It's all I know how to do now. This is my life. I am trying."