Commonwealth

by Ann Patchett

Half the things in this life I wish I could remember and the other half I wish I could forget.”

The six children held in common one overarching principle that cast their potential dislike for one another down to the bottom of the minor leagues: they disliked the parents. They hated them.

After Cal died, there was never any mention of Jeanette and Holly and Albie going back to Virginia.

Isn’t that what everyone wants, just for a moment to be unencumbered?

All the stories go with you, Franny thought, closing her eyes. All the things I didn’t listen to, won’t remember, never got right, wasn’t around for. All the ways to get to Torrance.

Life, Teresa knew by now, was a series of losses. It was other things too, better things, but the losses were as solid and dependable as the earth itself.

While she understood the importance of letting all thoughts rise without judgment, to see them and to let them go, she decided it would probably be best just to squelch this one.

He is fifteen and ten and five. He is an instant. He is flying back to her. He is hers again. She feels the weight of him in her chest as he comes into her arms. He is her son, her beloved child, and she takes him back.

“For the vast majority of the people on this planet,” Fix had said, “the thing that’s going to kill them is already on the inside.”