As her mother dies, the author finds new vocabularies with which to expres her love.
Stephanie gives an overview of the book:
We’ve been told that hearing is the last sense to go, that it’s good to talk to the comatose. My father is excellent at this. “Rhoda,” he says—forty-five years of marriage and his words flow freely—“I’m going to have a little breakfast, but after that I have to sit down with the mail and bills, which, I’m sorry to say, are spread all over the dining room table, just the way you hate it.” His tone is loving and informational. It’s the sound track in his head, natural and instinctive.
Not so for me. I sit by the hospital bed in their living room, where my mother, per her wishes, has come home to die. I try to speak and my voice catches in my throat, tears threaten. I find no easy words. I can think of nothing that doesn’t sound like “goodbye.”
Essayist, journalist and book author Stephanie Gold began writing in 1994. In that year, after 10 years of teaching composition and literature in the public schools of San Francisco, Stephanie traded in the blackboard for the keyboard and accepted a contract from Open Road...