I started Wild last night. I wasn't sure this was a good time to start a memoir I knew would thaw so many carefully preserved emotions. September has become a season of sorrow for me as it marks both my Mom's birthday and her Heaven day. She would be celebrating 64. We said goodbye 4 years ago. I've been carrying the book around, leaving it on the car seat, next to my favorite reading spot and in my purse just in case. I finally realized that reading this memoir isn't going to make me any sadder than my reality as these milestones come around again. So I relented that there is no good reason to resist this story I have been anxiously anticipating. I rationalized that, perhaps, there is good reason...kismet, fate...that this book is coming to me now so much sooner than I expected.
I was certain I was going to like this book after the prologue and I was in tears by page 2 of chapter 1. There was no one particular quote that resonated with me...all Strayed's words tugged at my heart and had me shaking my head affirmatively. I had the strange sense that in so many respects I could have been the author of this story. My Mom didn't leave us as quickly and I was lucky to be holding her hand when she did go, yet unfortunately there are many similarities in our experiences. The outcome and the aftermath are so much the same and, of course, that is what we are left with.
The tears I am shedding are cathartic. I know better than most that a good cry can be cleansing. Last night I slept fast and hard. Today I will read on, and I will remember my Mom and also the victims of 9/11.
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1 comment:
What a beautiful post. I am so sorry to hear your mother passed at a younger age. You clearly are in touch with your emotions and deeper self which I am guessing connects you to your mother, even though her body is not here.
Much Love,
Cory
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