On October 29th, I went to an evening drinks party at a neighbour’s house around the corner. A friend asked me about whether the UK or the USA is “home” and I replied that the States feels less and less like home every time I go, that the culture and politics are ever more foreign to me and the UK’s more progressive society is where I belong. I even made an offhand comment to the effect of: once my mother passed, I didn’t think I’d fly back there often, if at all. I was thinking about 5–10 years into the future; instead, a few hours after I got home from the party, we were awoken by the middle-of-the-night phone call saying my mother had suffered a nonrecoverable brain bleed. The next day she was gone.
I haven’t reflected a lot on the irony of that timing, probably because it feels like too much, but it turns out I was completely wrong: in fact, I’m now returning to the States more often. With our mom gone and our dad not really in our lives, my sister and I have gotten closer. Since October I’ve flown back twice and she’s visited here once. There are 7.5 years between us and we’ve always been at different stages of life, with separate preoccupations and priorities; I was also lazy and let my mom be the go-between, passing family news back and forth. Now there’s a sense that we are all we have, and we have to stick together.
So it was doubly important for me to be there for my sister’s graduation from nursing school last week. If we follow each other on Facebook or Instagram, you will have already seen that she finished at the top of her cohort and was one of just two students recognized for academic excellence out of the college’s over 200 graduates – and all of this while raising four children and coping with the disruption of Mom’s death seven months ago. There were many times when she thought she would have to pause or give up her studies, but she persisted and will start work as a hospice nurse soon. We’re all as proud as could be, on our mom’s behalf, too.
The trip was a mixture of celebratory moments and sad duties. We started the process of going through our mom’s belongings and culling what we can, but the files, photos and mementoes are the real challenge and had to wait for another time. There were dozens of books I’d given her for birthdays and holidays, mostly by her favourite gentle writers – Gerald Durrell, Jan Karon, Gervase Phinn – invariably annotated with her name, the date and occasion. I looked back through them and then let them go.
Between my two suitcases I managed to bring back the rest of her first box of journals (there are 150 of them in total, spanning 1989 to 2022), and I’m halfway through #4 at the moment. We moved out of my first home when I was nine, and I don’t have a lot of vivid memories of those early years. But as I read her record of everyday life it’s like I’m right back in those rooms. I get new glimpses of myself, my dad, my sister, but especially of her – not as my mother, but as a whole person. As a child I never realized she was depressed: distressed about her job situation, worried over conflicts with her siblings and my sister, coping with ill health (she was later diagnosed with fibromyalgia) and resisting ageing. For as strong as her Christian faith was, she was really struggling in ways I couldn’t appreciate then.
I hope that later journals will introduce hindsight, now that she’s not around to give a more circumspect view. In any case, they’re an incredible legacy, a chance for me to relive much of my life that I otherwise would only remember in fragments through photographs, and perhaps have a preview of what I can expect from the course of our shared kidney disease.
What I Read
The Housekeepers by Alex Hay – A historical heist novel with shades of Downton Abbey, this comes out in July. Reviewed for Shelf Awareness. 
Cowboys Are My Weakness by Pam Houston – Terrific: stark, sexy stories about women who live out West and love cowboys and hunters (as well as dogs and horses). Ten of the stories are in the first person, voiced by women in their twenties and thirties who are looking for romance and adventure and anxiously pondering motherhood (“by the time you get to be thirty, freedom has circled back on itself to mean something totally different from what it did at twenty-one”). The remaining two are in the second person, which I always enjoy. The occasional Montana setting reminded me of stories I’ve read by Maile Meloy and Maggie Shipstead, while the relationship studies made me think of Amy Bloom’s work. 
The Harpy by Megan Hunter – Read for Literary Wives club. Review coming up on Monday. 
The Lake Shore Limited by Sue Miller – A solid set of narratives alternating between the POVs of four characters whose lives converge around a play inspired by the playwright’s loss of her boyfriend on one of the hijacked planes on 9/11. Her mixed feelings about him towards the end of his life and about being shackled to his legacy as his ‘widow’ reverberate in other sections: one about the lead actor, whose wife has ALS; and one about a widower the playwright is being set up with on a date. Fitting for a book about a play, the scenes feel very visual. A little underpowered, but subtlety is to be expected from a Miller novel. She, Anne Tyler and Elizabeth Berg write easy reads with substance, just the kind of book I want to take on an airplane, as indeed I did with this one. I read the first 2/3 on my travel day (although with the 9/11 theme this maybe wasn’t the best choice!).
For apposite plane reading, I also started Fly Girl by Ann Hood, her memoir of being a TWA flight attendant in the 1970s, the waning glory days of air travel. I’ve read 10 or so of Hood’s books before from various genres, but lost interest in the minutiae of her job applications and interviews. Another writer would probably have made a bigger deal of the inherent sexism of the profession, too. I read 30%.
Hello Beautiful by Ann Napolitano – I knew I wanted to read this even before it was Oprah’s 100th book club pick. It’s a family story spanning three decades and focusing on the Padavanos, a working-class Italian American Chicago clan with four daughters: Julia, Sylvie, and twins Cecilia and Emeline. Julia meets melancholy basketball player William Waters while at Northwestern in the late 1970s and they marry and have a daughter; Sylvie, a budding librarian, makes out with boys in the stacks until her great romance comes along; Cecilia is an artist and Emeline loves babies and manages a nursery. More than once a character think of their collective story as a “soap opera,” and there’s plenty of melodrama here – an out-of-wedlock pregnancy, estrangements, a suicide attempt, a coming out, stealing another’s man – as well as far-fetched coincidences, including the two major deaths falling on the same day as a birth and a reconciliation.
There is such warmth and intensity to the telling, and brave reckoning with mental illness, prejudice and trauma, that I excused flaws such as dwelling overly much in characters’ heads through close third person narration, to the detriment of scenes and dialogue. I love sister stories in general, and the subtle echoes of Leaves of Grass and Little Women (the connections aren’t one to one and you’re kept guessing for most of the book who will be the Beth) add heft. I especially appreciated how a late parent is still remembered in daily life after 30 years have passed. This is, believe it or not, the second basketball novel I’ve loved this year, after Tell the Rest by Lucy Jane Bledsoe.
I always try to choose thematically appropriate reads, so I also started:
Circling My Mother by Mary Gordon – A memoir she began after her nonagenarian mother’s death with dementia. Intriguingly, the structure is not chronological but topic by topic, built around key relationships: so far I’ve read “My Mother and Her Bosses” and “My Mother: Words and Music.”
Grave by Allison C. Meier – My sister and I made a day trip up to my mother’s grave for the first time since her burial. She has a beautiful spot in a rural cemetery dating back to the 1780s, but it’s in full sun and very dry, so we tried to cheer up the dusty plot with some extra topsoil and grass seed, marigolds, and a butterfly flag.
Meier is a cemetery tour guide in Brooklyn, where she lives. In the third of the e-book I’ve read so far, she looks at American burial customs, the lack of respect for Black and Native American burial sites, and the rise of garden cemeteries such as Mount Auburn in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I’ve been reading death-themed books for over a decade and have delighted in exploring cemeteries (including Mount Auburn, as part of my New England honeymoon) for even longer, so this is right up my street and one of the better Object Lessons monographs.
What I Bought
I traded in most of my mother’s books at 2nd & Charles and Wonder Book and Video but, no surprise, promptly spent the store credit on more secondhand books. Thanks to clearance shelves at both stores, I only had to chip in another $12.25 for the below haul, which also covered two Dollar Tree purchases (I felt bad for Susan Minot having signed editions end up remaindered!). Some tried and true authors here, as well as novelties to test out, with a bunch of short stories and novellas to read later in the year.
Bookish Beck = Rebecca Foster. American transplant to England. Freelance proofreader and book reviewer.
Bookish Beck 
Oh, my gosh, Beck, I am so sorry!
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I see now I misread your blog and you didn’t just lose your mother, but in any case, you did last fall. I hope you are doing okay.
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No problem, Kay. It’s something I would have mentioned in passing in a handful of blogs but not focused on too much. We’re all doing okay now, but the sadness comes back at unexpected moments.
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Yes, I understand.
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I will definitely look for the Miller; your description has me thinking of Claire Thomas’ The Performance.
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I loved The Performance. I wouldn’t have thought to make the comparison, but you’re right that they both structure the action around the experience of watching a play.
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Oh, Rebecca, this is a really beautiful piece. I’m so sorry about your mom, again, but please accept my heartiest congratulations to your sister (what a powerhouse!) And the 150 journals for you to read through? A treasure trove. I hope it continues to be a beautiful journey.
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A superwoman indeed! The journals are such a gift. It was a casual agreement between my mom and me that I would inherit and read them, but I didn’t think a lot about what that would actually mean for me. I feel like I’ve been given my childhood back and, while I’m sure I’ll play a smaller role in them as I grow up and leave for college and then the UK, I’ll be able to relive it all to an extent.
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It’s so good to hear how strong your connections are with your sister and how much stronger they’re likely to get. I’ve lost contact with my sisters – long story but, essentially, unfounded feelings of favouritism and a divisive will contributed – and I can’t see them being re-established. Treasure what you have, is my advice.
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I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve seen money issues create divisions in family (my husband’s aunt, uncle and cousin aren’t speaking to the rest of the family because we inherited a large amount of money from a distant relative’s will and they got nothing). And I’ve experienced similar with my father — needless estrangement, which is also a strong theme in the Napolitano above. It’s never too late to try to restore those relationships, though.
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I love to hear about this stronger connection with you and your sister, and thanks for all the great book reviews.
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Thanks for reading and commenting! There have been several silver linings, and I’m sure my mom would be pleased with me for finding them rather than focusing on the loss.
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Wonderful post! And congratulations to your sister!
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What a lovely post Rebecca. Difficult to capture the bitter-sweetness of life but you have with so much of what you’ve written here.
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Thank you, Kate. On that topic, Susan Cain’s book is excellent if you don’t already know it.
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It does sound like something positive has come from the loss of your mother, Rebecca. I hope that that bond gets stronger too
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Thanks, Paul. I think it will.
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What a wonderful thing for your family to have – your mother’s journals. Though sad that you may read things you might have loved to have talked about with her, and now no longer have the chance.
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They’re such a treasure. But I keep wondering, what will I do with them after I’ve read and reread them??
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It’s hard to know. Does the family line end with you and your sister? Is any of the stuff she includes social, as opposed to personal history?
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Buried in Print suggested the same, that the journals might have social value to an archive, but apart from mentions of current events (lots about the Gulf War in the 1991 journal I’m reading now), the content is mostly personal. My sister has two sons; she thinks it’s girls who are more likely to be interested in family history.
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Is your sister talking about her girls? Or girls generally? Because in our family, it’s my son who’s more likely to follow up family history.
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She was talking about girls generally (she doesn’t have a biological daughter), though of course that’s a stereotype. I guess it’s accepting that her sons are unlikely to want to read their late grandmother’s journals.
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Many congratulations to your sister, Rebecca. What an achievement in such difficult circumstances! And I’m so glad to hear something positive has come from the loss of your mother. I remember a Susan Minot line I read years ago which has a character looking down and seeing her late mother’s hands holding the book she’s reading. I’ve had the same experience as I grow older and find it a lovely link to my mother.
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A line has to be memorable to stay with you for many years! One of my mom’s friends wrote me, “as your life unfolds you will see her in your mirror and will hear her in your speech,” and that’s a comforting thought.
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How lovely! I think so.
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Sorry for your loss. Yes, losing a parent (or both) does make you closer to your siblings (if you have them).
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Something to be grateful for. It would be so hard to do all the ‘sadmin’ on my own.
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Oh Rebecca, I hadn’t realised your mother’s death was quite so sudden. I’m so sorry, it must have been a terrible shock.
Massive congrats again to your brilliant sister!
I’m so looking forward to reading Hello Beautiful, it sounds great. I have a Netgalley ARC ready to go.
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She’d been ill off and on for a while, but we’d hoped she was on the mend. The timing was cruel because she’d only been married to her second husband for 16 months.
I think you’ll love Hello Beautiful. I know you seek out sister stories too, and the Little Women parallel is a draw (though it’s not as major an element as I expected).
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I remember you going over for her wedding x
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I’m sorry for the loss of your mother, but how wonderful to have her journals!!! And I’m glad you and your sister are becoming closer. That’s wonderful!
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Gosh, your sister sounds like such an impressive woman. Well done her!
Susan Minot is one of those authors I’ve meant to read for years, ever since enjoying the film Evening.
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She is 🙂 I hope I can live up to her achievements someday.
I have somehow never read Minot! It felt like a kindness to buy her signed copy from the dollar store.
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Congratulations to your sister! I’m glad you are able to reconnect and stay close even with a physical distance between you. The way you talk about reading your mom’s journals made me teary-eyed. I think that’s what I hope my daughters can get from my journals one day in the future.
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It’s a real gift to have that record of everyday life. Are there any secrets you’re worried about them learning?
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Not secrets, no. I would hope to wait until they are adults though since I think it generally takes some life experience to be able to see your parents as individuals and not just your mom or dad!
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That makes sense. I think it took me into my 30s to start to see my mother clearly as a separate person.
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How wonderful to have those journals, and the renewed relationship with your sister. I really enjoyed Word Freak – in fact I think I’ve read it twice as I included it in a re-reading month to see if I wanted to keep all my “quest” books (I did).
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I’m glad to hear that. I saw the topic of Word Freak and couldn’t resist!
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I love that your relationship with your sister is strengthening and that you can be a comfort to one another. I also love that you have all those journals of your mom’s! What a gift.
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I’ve been taking my time with the journals, reading a few entries a night, if that. I suppose I could have binged on this whole box worth I have here with me now, but there’s no rush.
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