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“That’s one of the things books do. They help us talk. But they also give us something we all can talk about when we don’t want to talk about ourselves.”
I did start to notice something, however: a difference in tone when this last question was asked by someone whose mother or father or both had recently died, especially of cancer. It was as if we were reading the same book, but one of us had gotten ahead of the other: they’d made it to the end, and I was still somewhere in the middle. The “How are you doing?” was really “I think I may know how you are doing.”
We’re all in the end-of-our-life book club, whether we acknowledge it or not; each book we read may well be the last, each conversation the final one.
