Dr. Brendan Reilly is the kind of doctor everyone should have. He is an internist, a doctor who specializes in the treatment and prevention of diseaseDr. Brendan Reilly is the kind of doctor everyone should have. He is an internist, a doctor who specializes in the treatment and prevention of diseases in adults. He calls himself a dinosaur, in that there are few doctors left like him. But it's a shame that there are so few of these types of doctors left. Instead of concentrating on just one area, one specialty, Dr Reilly looks at the entire patient and sees how various ailments present themselves throughout the body, and how diseases and issues affect the patient. I found it fascinating that he was able to detect a serious problem with one of his patients doing it the old-fashioned, low-tech way with various external tests, while his younger colleague came to the same conclusions with the use of high-tech scans. To me, this proves that both ways of coming to a diagnosis are valuable. Sometimes things can be caught with the less-invasive method, but when that fails, having the high-tech tests and scans are invaluable for a patient's survival.
I was intrigued by how honest Dr Reilly is throughout this book, being very open and honest about his regrets and what he sees as his failures, and I do wonder what the children of Fred and Martha think of this book (though I'm going to assume they've read it before publication). But I think it shows us that medical professionals are people too, and most aren't suffering from a god complex, that they realize that sometimes they could have and should have done more. Yet sometimes we know that only as Monday morning quarterbacks. It can be a very difficult call to make in the moment.
Dr Reilly also discusses how broken the American health care system is, and it's difficult to read these passages without becoming very angry. I have been insulated from much of this, as I have been treated by military medicine my entire life. The bureaucracy inherent in the system makes the almighty dollar the be-all and the end-all of medical treatment, which is such a shame. Dr Reilly posits some ways of fixing the system, but considering how wealthy hospitals and insurance companies are getting thanks to the current system, I doubt anything will change soon. It's almost enough to make me want to move to a nation with universal health care.
At any rate, this is an excellent memoir by a thoughtful and intelligent doctor who simply wants to provide the best care possible to all of his patients. It's also a heart-wrenching look at a son trying to do his best by his aging mother and father, who have serious health issues and trust him to make the best decisions for them.
The Shift is a fascinating look at what it means to be a nurse in an oncology ward in a hospital. Brown really brings to life one day in her3.5 stars
The Shift is a fascinating look at what it means to be a nurse in an oncology ward in a hospital. Brown really brings to life one day in her life, working with and for four patients on her floor, plus dealing with the others who work with her, from orderlies and escorts to fellow nurses to doctors and residents and interns. We also see how human and understanding nurses have to be with difficult patients and their families, and how much the struggles of their patients affect them while they're on the floor. But Brown also shows us how she turns off all that worry and concern for her patients once she leaves the floor to go home. It isn't a lack of compassion; instead, she's conserving her compassion and humanity for the patients she'll have tomorrow, next week, next year.
Brown does an excellent job of portraying a typical day as a nurse. I felt it was a smart choice to choose one day and stick to that one shift so we can see how difficult and long, yet at times satisfying and rewarding, one twelve-hour shift can be. I also appreciated an update on these four patients in her epilogue, so the reader wouldn't continue to wonder exactly what had happened to these folks we'd gotten to know so well along with Ms. Brown.
My only quibble with the book comes from the tendency of Brown to employ overdrawn and overwrought similes and descriptions in some of her passages. But most of her writing is matter-of-fact, yet full of care and compassion.
I'd recommend this book to anyone who wants to see what it means to be a good nurse or medical professional....more
Full disclosure: I am both a Navy spouse and a Navy brat. I've been around sailors all my life, and I can hold my own against them all. I like to sayFull disclosure: I am both a Navy spouse and a Navy brat. I've been around sailors all my life, and I can hold my own against them all. I like to say I am a lady with the mouth of a well-educated sailor, and there is something so very satisfying about dropping a well-placed F bomb.
That said, this book takes foul language over the edge. I realize that sailors use the F word like the rest of us use adjectives and adverbs, but even still, I feel McGuire overused it. He also tends to sprinkle the C word around with abandon. I had a hard time believing that even rough whalers in the mid 1800s would have used the C word quite so often.
But even still, this book wasn't really for me. I can appreciate that McGuire does write a vivid and visceral tale, but his obsession with describing bodily functions, especially defecation and vomiting, was over the top for me (I didn't really need to know about Drax's chamberpot filled with brown piss with turds floating in it. How does that further the plot except that he lives like an animal? The description of his greasy and fetid bedding would have been sufficient). The ending was satisfying, in that (view spoiler)[Drax manages to get his comeuppance (hide spoiler)], but I don't feel like the rest of the book made up for that. Also this isn't really a mystery, since we readers know the whodunit from nearly the first page, and neither is it an investigation of a psychopathic mind because the guilty party isn't even really the focus of the novel.
I'd have to sum up this novel as a gore-fest for folks who find a thrill in such things. Unfortunately, I'm not one of those people. ["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>...more
This is a book that every American, regardless of race, really needs to read. We have all heard the stories of how difficult life was for black peopleThis is a book that every American, regardless of race, really needs to read. We have all heard the stories of how difficult life was for black people in the South, from before the Civil War as slaves who were beaten and emotionally and psychologically abused by their masters, to the signs in the 20th century South that separated the races so they'd never have to use the same restroom or even sit in the same restaurant, and the photos of the results of a lynching deep in the southern woods. But what tends to be glossed over, at least in most American history classes, is how devastating living under Jim Crow was to the average black citizen. Wilkerson does an amazing job of bringing to life the difficulties of this time for anyone with dark skin, how any African-American would have to step off the sidewalk to allow a white person to pass, the indignity of being called "boy" or "girl" by whites even as grown and respectable adults, the knowledge that whatever work a black person could find, it was guaranteed they'd at minimum be underpaid but even cheated of their fair earnings, the knowledge that one's husband or father or brother could be lynched and murdered brutally for any imagined slight against any white person. It's no wonder then that so many people wanted to leave a place that kept an entire race enslaved under such strictures.
Wilkerson's decision to focus on the stories of just three people who migrated from the south to the north and west is masterful. I've read other histories that use first-person recollections of the subject matter that become bogged down in too many stories. With Wilkerson focusing on three, we get to know these people intimately, and we follow along with their hardships in the south, their frightening trips to their new homes, and then the difficulties of making it in a new land where they're not sure of the rules, and where they still stand out because of their clothes, their behavior, their accents.
Wilkerson's theory too of these African-Americans sharing so much with immigrants to America from other lands is quite interesting as well. They were Americans, but not full citizens until they managed to leave the South, considering the difficulties put into place by southern officials to prevent blacks from voting. Yet they streamed north and west, and when they arrived in the North they were as different as immigrants from Europe, with their accents, their clothes, and their food.
I found it quite thought-provoking that Wilkerson refutes the commonly held belief that the reason the northern cities are now in such straits regarding welfare, drug use, single parenthood, etc, is that the southern migrants brought these issues with them. Instead, Wilkerson shows research that points out that the southern migrants had strict morals, that they were usually better educated than the blacks in the north, and that they married and stayed married. These upstanding citizens had children in the north who were then tempted and led astray by the problems that were already plaguing northern cities, making these issues worse.
This is necessary reading for all Americans, and the wonderful thing is this book reads almost like a novel, so it's easy to digest, yet it brings up so many thoughtful questions. My only regret is that I wasn't able to discuss this with my book club in Virginia; I have a feeling it generated a lot of discussion....more
Being the daughter of and married to US Navy sailors, I've always been fascinated by the sea and those who travel across her. My fascination with terrBeing the daughter of and married to US Navy sailors, I've always been fascinated by the sea and those who travel across her. My fascination with terrible storms at sea was only increased after I read The Perfect Storm: A True Story of Men Against the Sea at my husband's urging (it's one of his favorite movies), so when this book popped up in my Goodreads suggestions, it seemed the perfect read for me.
This book is incredible. Rousmaniere, himself a sailor in the 1979 Fastnet race that lost 15 participants to the horrible storm that blew in at the height of the race, does an amazing job of trying to keep as impersonal as possible, but it's clear that this tragedy has affected him. I appreciate that unlike the other journalists that covered the story just after it happened, and who hadn't been at sea during this awful gale, he didn't blame the sailors themselves for their deaths or injuries, and he is very careful to emphasize that even though his crew and the yacht they sailed came through without mishap, that was not the experience of a great deal of his fellow sailors, who endured unimaginable horror in seeing their crewmates die from injuries sustained on board, or who were swept away by the huge waves. Rousmaniere does an excellent job of showing the heroism of everyone who sailed in this race.
My only slight quibble with this book is that Rousmaniere tends to use far too much sailing jargon for those of us who have no sailing experience. Fortunately, it's not absolutely crucial to understand why the crew used this sail or that in certain situations, and it's easy to skim over these technical bits.
Highly recommended, though I'd suggest not reading this book if you're feeling at all emotionally fragile, as you will probably cry at every loss of life. I cannot help but be reminded of the Navy hymn:
Eternal Father, strong to save, Whose arm hath bound the restless wave, Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep Its own appointed limits keep; Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee, For those in peril on the sea!
I won't pretend this book isn't heart-wrenching, but it is raw and honest. I have been lucky to have been spared the same sorts of situations that ButI won't pretend this book isn't heart-wrenching, but it is raw and honest. I have been lucky to have been spared the same sorts of situations that Butler had to endure with her own parents. My grandparents, having endured the wrenching deaths of my grandmother's parents, have many directives in place to prevent what happened to Butler's father, in which he was kept alive far beyond what any sane person would consider reasonable. Not knowing many details, I know my grandfather passed away after a fall, though he'd been struggling with dementia for years, and his children were all able to come be with him in hospice care. Surrounded by his loving family, my grandfather did indeed achieve a Good Death, though his later years were less than enjoyable. While my family does grieve the loss of our patriarch, we felt relieved that he died so peacefully, especially considering his dementia.
After reading this book, however, I am a bit nervous for my grandmother's later years. At the moment, she is as healthy as a woman could possibly be in her late 80s. She lives a full and interesting life, surrounded by friends and family, and is safely ensconced in a retirement community where she can merely ask for help if she needs it. But what if she falls, and she's rushed into surgery to repair the break, even considering her advanced age? I understand the precept of "do no harm," but is it really beneficial to extend the lives of our elderly when they're already so frail? Should we really want to keep people alive as long as possible, regardless of the risks or the decline in quality of life?
I'm all for healing and fixing what's broken, but it has to be determined on a case-by-case basis. A woman at 85 may be healthy enough for heart surgery but perhaps is done living. Has she outlived all her friends and her spouse? Why reward doctors for doing everything medically possible to keep her alive when she may die in a few months completely unaware of her surroundings and hooked up to a myriad of machines?
Honestly, the medical situation regarding the elderly in this country scares me. I hope that by the time I am staring my mortality in the face that we've gone back to the ancient way of doing things, keeping vigils with the dying and allowing them to choose the time of their deaths.
This really should be required reading for everyone. I believe it's the only way to fight back against the lobbies in Washington who benefit from these Hail Mary procedures at the end of life for many patients....more
I have to say, this book blows A Perfect Storm out of the water. Junger seems to really have come into his own as a writer, whereas in A Perfect Storm he delves a little too deeply into the very technical, both regarding fishing and the boats used to fish, as well as the meteorological phenomena that caused the horrific storm that sank the Andrea Gail. It could also be that a good chunk of The Perfect Storm had to be conjecture, since we will never know exactly what happened to the Andrea Gail or what decisions her crew may have made. This time, in A Death in Belmont, Junger had plenty of research and material from which to work, which made his narrative so much stronger.
This book was difficult to put down. In many places, it reads more like a thriller novel and less like what it is, a well-researched non-fiction piece. The fact that one of the murders that happened in the early 60s occurred just down from Junger's family home when he was a toddler, and that the man who ultimately confessed to being the Boston Strangler worked in Junger's home for a time gives even more weight to his story. Imagine being Mrs Junger and having that strange encounter with DeSalvo, gazing up at her from the basement with that look in her eye. I'm sure it gave her nightmares for years to come, knowing how close she may have come to being a victim of DeSalvo's.
The only time the book loses some of its steam is near the end with Junger's ambiguity regarding whether Smith or DeSalvo (or a third person) was responsible for the death in Belmont of Bessie Goldberg, just down the road from his family home. So much points to Smith's innocence and DeSalvo's guilt, but yet DeSalvo refused to confess to Goldberg's murder. It would have been so satisfying to have a clear answer to that murder, but it's one of those things that will never be settled with the data that we have.
For fans of true crime or serial killers, I would highly recommend this book....more
I've always been fascinated by Africa, especially after I spent a month in Kenya on a mission trip with my church in 1996. We here in America will somI've always been fascinated by Africa, especially after I spent a month in Kenya on a mission trip with my church in 1996. We here in America will sometimes complain about our lives, but it's nothing compared to the poverty I saw while in Kenya. Not even Nairobi is spared; electricity in the capital city is never a guarantee. But at least it's somewhat stable, unlike Zimbabwe, Rogers's home country.
When most people think of Africa, we think of white colonists coming over and carving the continent up into countries convenient for them, ignoring tribal lands and boundaries. So when we hear about the colonists losing their privileged status, perhaps we are a little glad to see the land reverting back to its native sons and daughters.
Yet Rogers's family has been in Zimbabwe (or Rhodesia, as it was known before independence) for longer than the United States has been its own nation. Should these white settlers, who have been in Zimbabwe for hundreds of years, be thrown out even though they feel that they too are part of the fabric of that nation? By that metric, all of the whites in America should return to their countries of origin.
This is a fascinating account of Rogers's parents, who love Zimbabwe with all their hearts, and who are eager to see a country unified and whole with people of all colors who have made it their home. They own a place called Drifters, which had once been a hostel of sorts, but which also turned into somewhat of a brothel once lawlessness began to descend upon Zimbabwe. Reading about the corruption and the rampant inflation (Zimbabwean dollars are pretty much worthless; you can be a billionaire and still be desperately poor) and the inability to hold an honest election makes my heart ache, but somehow Rogers's parents learn how to survive in the face of famine and food shortages and a lack of electricity. To leave Zimbabwe, the land that they love, is unthinkable for them, even if staying is downright terrifying.
I would highly encourage people to read this book not only to learn a bit about a country that may be overlooked by we in the West, but also to give thanks that we live in such a stable environment. You may also wish you could sit down with Lyn and Ros, just to watch them drink the young folk under the table once more....more
I spent some time in Kenya in 1996, when I was just a teen, on a mission trip with my church. We spent most of our time in a tiny village called KibweI spent some time in Kenya in 1996, when I was just a teen, on a mission trip with my church. We spent most of our time in a tiny village called Kibwezi without electricity (but we had running water!), and we lived in tents for a month while we helped out at the polytechnic we sponsored and helped build new classrooms from native brick. It's one of my most cherished memories, and so I love to read books on Kenya throughout its history.
I absolutely wanted to love this book. I don't know whether it's me or it's the book (this gets really rave reviews here on Goodreads), but I felt myself skimming so many passages, or reading a section and realizing that none of it had sunken in. Perhaps it was because Huxley was a child during these years in British East Africa, but she has a very adult perception of what's going on, especially regarding her parents' friends. There's quite a few instances extramarital attraction, and I have to wonder whether Huxley did pick up on it when she was 6 (because it is possible), or whether she's looking back on her childhood memories with adult eyes and realizing that's what's happening. Also I found it strange that she refers to her parents by their first names in this memoir, yet they're not actually her parents' real names (which are actually Nellie and Jos, not Tilly and Robin).
I did quite enjoy the photographs she included, but the handwritten captions were at times difficult to decipher. I also found the memoir a bit disjointed, with nothing really tying everything together. It reads more like an unconnected collection of anecdotes, and it's perhaps for that reason that I felt it rather slow going.
I much preferred Beryl Markham's West with the Night for a look at colonial Kenya through a child's eyes. Unfortunately this one, its photos and paintings notwithstanding, came as a bit of a disappointment for me....more
I put off reading this book for too long, so I perhaps wasn't in the mindset to read it, knowing it *had* to go back to the library as soon as possiblI put off reading this book for too long, so I perhaps wasn't in the mindset to read it, knowing it *had* to go back to the library as soon as possible. I started it on a Friday, which is never a good day to start a book for me, as the weekend is always distracting. But I gamely tried to get as much under my belt as I could that Friday.
I failed quite a bit that day. I just couldn't get into the book. It was dry, it was confusing. Barrett added in little unexplained details that you knew would be explained later, but this is an affectation that bothers me quite a bit, as my memory, distracted as I am by my life, isn't as great as I would like.
But then something changed, and I'm not sure where it did. All of a sudden, I could see the Arctic landscape in my eye, with Erasmus and Zeke and Ned and Dr Boerhaave and the other men surviving the brutal Arctic weather as best as they could. I found myself devouring words and pages, until I looked up after reading a hundred pages, thinking just a few minutes had passed. I became invested in what happened to Erasmus, both physically and emotionally, and that tied me to the story.
This isn't a quick, rollicking adventure story. It's much more of a slow burn that grabs you all of a sudden, but keeps on simmering. I could almost see the engravings Alexandra worked on, both while Erasmus was gone and the ones she created for him. I could nearly feel the bone-numbing cold of the Arctic, and see the grubs Erasmus and the others had to eat in order to survive. I felt so much for Erasmus, for all he had lost in his first adventure, the one that came before the Narwhal, and then on this voyage.
But it also reminds us of how far we have come in science. Not that long ago, we felt that different ethnicities were indeed a different species; Europeans could not fathom that a primitive nation like the Esquimaux could share a common ancestor with their advanced people, so of course they were a wholly different species. As a person fascinated by anthropology, it makes me sad to think of all the knowledge we lost of these so-called primitive people, before we realized that preserving or at least recording their way of life was a meaningful thing, as opposed to simply "civilizing" them. If only we could send anthropologists and ethno-linguists back in time...
I would highly recommend this book, with the caveat that it is a very slow start that some might not care to muddle through. I look forward to finding Barrett's other books....more
I'm really not sure why I am so fascinated by how my forebears lived. And I'm not talking about the big stuff, like a biography of Lincoln or WashingtI'm really not sure why I am so fascinated by how my forebears lived. And I'm not talking about the big stuff, like a biography of Lincoln or Washington or Henry VII. I want to know what the average man did to earn his keep, feed his family, and clean his house. How did he clean himself? What kind of clothes did he wear? How were they fastened (buttons and zippers are relatively modern inventions)? What kind of home did he live in? Were people really half-drunk all the time, as they drank beer instead of water, due to the possibility of contamination?
This book answers so many of these questions, and even more that I didn't know that I had. Did you know that your laundresses would remove stains with urine?! How about that hardly anyone in pre-modern times would go to the bathroom alone? If you weren't using a communal latrine, you would, as king, have someone (or several someones) accompany you to the toilet so you'd never have to endure a bowel movement alone. How about sleeping alone with just your significant other? That is also a rather modern invention. Throughout most of history, the entire family, in addition to servants and guests and random strangers would all bed down together.
This makes for a fascinating book, especially since it is told in a very conversational manner. Others have pointed out that they would prefer footnotes, but I didn't miss them. Also, I do agree that having more of Dr. Worsley's personal experience doing some of these ancient chores would have made the book even better. She describes the recipe a person would use to black a Victorian stove, and mentions from personal experience that it would be weeks before the blacking would leave her fingernails. But tell us more about that personal experience! That's the kind of thing I really want to know.
Be warned that this is written very much for the British audience, considering that Dr. Worsley has a TV show on just this subject. So some of the comparisons don't ring true to an American, and there are times that an American would have to make allowances for the British slant. It doesn't detract from the book in any way, but it is something to be aware of.
If I had any criticism, I think I would have either have chosen longer chapters for certain subjects (some chapters are only three pages long, barely enough to really get one's teeth in), or omitting those chapters (in case there isn't any more research for that subject) altogether.
I found the conclusion to be a bit too high-handed for me, but I do appreciate that it seems like we are moving back to a simpler life in many ways, a throwback to our ancestors.
Truly this is a fascinating book, and one I would highly recommend to anyone who wants to learn how people lived before modern conveniences....more
From the title, The Homecoming of Samuel Lake you might assume that this book is all about Samuel Lake, a preacher without a church who has gone backFrom the title, The Homecoming of Samuel Lake you might assume that this book is all about Samuel Lake, a preacher without a church who has gone back with his family to his wife's ancestral home in Arkansas. But this book is about so much more than Samuel Lake. Not only is it a coming-of-age story for Sam's kids, but it's just as much one for himself. For what is a preacher without a flock? Who is he, and who is his wife and who are his kids? They all must adjust to this major change in their lives.
Sam Lake's plot is actually just one of many. We learn about his wife Willadee, who has always stood by her husband. We meet Toy, Willadee's brother, and his wife Bernice. We come to love Calla, Willadee and Toy's mother, a woman who unfortunately ran out of time to make amends, but who tried to make up for it with the family she had left. And the reader is left almost wanting to join the kids in their imaginative play, full of cops and robbers and cowboys and Indians, like any other group of kids in the 1950s.
This book is so well written, with love and wit and dry humor and sensitivity to some really difficult issues. I can't say that I laughed out loud, but I did giggle quite a few times to myself due to Wingfield's turns of phrases or absurd situations. I could see also how Wingfield could bring the reader to tears, both of joy and relief, and of anger and sadness.
I would highly recommend this book to anyone who loves a good tale that is extremely well woven, and a story whose characters will stick with you for quite a while. ...more
Had I not read Beryl Markham's memoir West with the Night just a few weeks ago, I probably would have enjoyed this book quite a bit more than I did, aHad I not read Beryl Markham's memoir West with the Night just a few weeks ago, I probably would have enjoyed this book quite a bit more than I did, although Beryl's character does get rather tiresome in McLain's version. I understand that there are quite a few women throughout history that have lived an unconventional life and been punished by society for it, but in other accounts, these women come across as far stronger and less, for lack of a better word, whiny about it all. I realize we're supposed to see the emotional struggles that Markham endured while still being the first female horse trainer and the first bush pilot in Kenya, but she still comes across in this book as irritatingly insecure and unsure of her desires and options in life.
Like Markham's memoir, this book barely mentions her record-breaking flight from Britain to North America. But unlike her memoir, McLain's novel focuses mainly on the adult Beryl, someone who married a bit prematurely and ended up taking a lover to satisfy her need for affection and understanding. While I wouldn't judge a person for her infidelities, I feel like McLain lost quite a bit of the luster of Markham's childhood and the magic that she is able to convey in her own memoirs by focusing mainly on her adult life. And considering that Markham was an adult during the formation of Kenya and during some of its early growing pains, one would hope that she would reflect more on what was going on in her home country, not ignoring it all so that she could focus on when she was going to see her lover next. McLain totally lost the magic that was Kenya in Markham's memoirs; this book could have taken place in almost any wild nation.
Personally I feel that McLain did quite a bit of disservice to Markham. She's so much more likable in her own memoirs, though it's important to note that she does not name her lovers as such, but merely as friends. One could argue that Markham is not entirely honest, leaving quite a bit out (including her marriages to Jock Purves and to Mansfield Markham, and the birth of her son), as though they're simply too painful to mention. It's not a kiss-and-tell memoir, but one that is almost entirely a love letter to her adopted country.
I could see why some folks would rave about this book, but honestly, I'd recommend Markham's memoirs first....more
Add this to the list of incredibly difficult things to read. Monica Wesolowska gives birth to a perfect son after a typical pregnancy, but it's clearAdd this to the list of incredibly difficult things to read. Monica Wesolowska gives birth to a perfect son after a typical pregnancy, but it's clear from the beginning that there is something very wrong with her son Silvan. She and her husband David are forced to make an incredibly difficult decision: do they continue to keep their son alive, even though he will only exist in a vegetative state for the rest of his life, or do they allow their son to die with dignity?
This was very difficult for me to read, especially the details of Silvan's birth. "I have learned that when a baby is in distress he defecates, that his defecation is called meconium, and that meconium is dangerous if he inhales it. I know the meconium had alerted the doctors to Silvan's distress, the meconium and his subsequent lethargy, the lethargy that had scared David so much while I lay there in my post-partum haze" (50). My first child had also defecated before birth, and was ultimately air-lifted the night she was born to a children's hospital in Seattle, across the Puget Sound from where I had given birth to her. Fortunately, my baby survived her ordeal (she'll be 11 in October), but to read about baby Silvan and the similarities to my Grace was very sobering. There but for the grace of God (or whatever governs these things), go I.
I'm also impressed by how honest Wesolowska is in her memoir. She doesn't sugar-coat anything, how raw her grief is to how much she resents people who just don't understand her grief. Personally, I hold none of it against her; I haven't lost a child of my own in such a lingering and terrible way, I've never had to make the decision to allow my child to die; I don't feel as though I am qualified to judge her in any way. For what it's worth, I do think she made the correct decision for Silvan, even though it caused her and her husband David so much pain.
But there's a lot of hope in this book. The memorial she creates to Silvan in her backyard seems to be such a beautiful place, and I love that she will always acknowledge and honor him. He was here; he lived; he brought his parents joy. He should be remembered. ...more