Tag Archives: grief

Review: Ithaca, by Susan Fish

Ithaca, by Susan FishIthaca, by Susan Fish (Storywell, 2014)

When your life revolves around your husband and his work, what do you do when you have to start over? Alone?

Ithaca is a coming-of-age story—for a 59-year-old woman.

Daisy Turner’s husband, Arthur, was a professor at Cornell University. She typed his notes and kept his home. And made soup for a crowd every Wednesday.

They married young, and Daisy found fulfillment as a wife and mother. Now her son works overseas, and she’s a widow. And most of her friends are really Arthur’s friends.

She finds herself developing a friendship with a man who is slowly losing his wife to illness, and with a young woman who’s an environmental activist. Daisy surprises herself—and her son—by signing up for a university course to learn about fracking. She doesn’t know what it is, but the protest signs are everywhere, and she’d like to learn.

There’s so much to appreciate about this novel. Daisy seems quiet and ordinary, but it’s that very ordinariness that connects with readers. She’s candid about her grief, and the struggles it brings. We can identify. As her concern grows about the possible environmental danger from the fracking proposals, we can relate to this polite, reserved, non-activist who’s afraid that by doing nothing she’s surrendering the fight.

Most of us have concerns about some issue or another, and we know that feeling of helplessness. It’s interesting to watch Daisy discover how she fits into the bigger picture, how she can express her concerns in a way that’s true to who she is.

Ultimately, I think that’s what the story is about: finding—and being true to—one’s identity. Prepare to be charmed by Daisy, and by the town of Ithaca, NY, along the way.

Ithaca is a mainstream novel, and certain characters occasionally use mild profanity. Daisy herself was raised in the church, left for a time, but returned as an adult. Her faith shapes her life, but she’s still human and still open to making poor choices, as are we all.

Susan Fish writes beautifully and with an honesty I admire. Here are some of my favourite lines:

I needed the present to hold me very close because the past was threatening to engulf me. [p. 15]

Mondays were the days I stayed in my housecoat and watched hours of television shows, just to hear a human voice. [p. 19]

She carried loaves of bread from the restaurant like she was Miss America and they were her flowers. [p. 20, Daisy, about another friend]

I’m a farmer, Daisy Jane. I save my anger for what really matters. [p. 91: Carmel, the young activist. I love this perspective.]

Susan Fish is a Canadian author and editor as well as the principal of Storywell, an online resource for writers. You can find her blog at susanfishwrites.wordpress.com. If you missed the character interview I did with Daisy Turner, you can read it here.

[Review copy provided by the author.]

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Character interview: Daisy Turner

Susan Fish is a Canadian author and editor as well as the principal of Storywell, an online resource for writers. Her new novel, Ithaca, releases October 1, 2014.

Susan Fish

Susan Fish

Today I’m chatting with Daisy Turner, the main character of Ithaca.

Janet: Welcome, Daisy, and thanks for taking time to join us. First, let me offer my sympathy for your loss. Would you care to tell us a little about yourself, and about Arthur, too? You were married a long time, and you’re bound to have shaped each other along the way.

Daisy: Thank you, Janet. I appreciate your sympathy. My husband, who died in May, was a geology professor at Cornell University. I was his right-hand man. Right-hand woman, I should say. I typed his papers for him and, as much as it isn’t fashionable to say this, I was very happy being Arthur’s wife and Nick’s mother, and running our household.

Janet: What do you miss most about him?

Daisy: Oh goodness, my answer to that would probably be different every day. What surprised me was that it’s the little things more than the big things, the things only I would know about him.

Janet: Shh… is there anything that’s easier about living alone again?

Daisy: This is actually the first time I’ve ever lived alone. I was very young when I married. I’m not sure easier is the word I would use, generally. Arthur had a heart condition and we had to adopt a low-sodium diet. It is nice to be able to season my food again.

Janet: Your son is working overseas, correct? Do you think you might visit him at some point?

Daisy: My son works in Singapore. We visited him a couple of years ago. I always keep a small rock in my pocket, a rock I picked up on a beach in Singapore. It helps me feel that he isn’t so far away. I imagine I will visit him again at some time, but he’s been good about coming home too.

Janet: I love that idea of the pocket-rock for connection! So much of your life revolved around Arthur’s schedule. I see you’ve kept the weekly Wednesday soup nights. How did those start? And do you find comfort in keeping up the tradition?

Daisy: I don’t think the people who come to Wednesday nights would let me stop even if I wanted to! But I don’t want to stop. It’s been part of my life almost since we moved to Ithaca. Initially it was just Arthur’s grad students who came to dinner, and soup was the easiest thing to make—because it stretches to accommodate an extra person or two. After a few years, it became a standing date.

Janet: Do you create your own recipes? And are you a local food cook, or does that matter to you?

Daisy: I cook for a large crowd so I have to adapt but I usually start with a recipe. Over time, it becomes my own. We have a vibrant farmer’s market in Ithaca and that’s where I get most of the food for my soups. All the vendors there come from a small radius around the town, so I suppose yes, I do cook local foods.

Janet: I confess I hadn’t heard of Ithaca before. It sounds like a charming university town, and I’d love to see the waterfalls. Please tell us about your home. What do you like best about where you live?

Daisy: I’m from the South originally but Ithaca has been my home since the early ’70s. I think I’d have to say—and I’ve never really thought about this before exactly—that there are two things I like most about Ithaca, and they aren’t that different from each other. One is the waterfalls and the other is the students. In both cases, what I love is the liveliness, the sense of movement. We have dozens of waterfalls in our area and I’m fond of all of them. You really should visit, and this time of year is a beautiful one with all the leaves in color. We aren’t a big city but Ithaca is home to Cornell, where my husband taught, and Ithaca College. Having the students around brings a freshness to our town; I always look forward to the end of summer when the students come back.

Janet: One of your friends keeps bees. Are you learning a few things about helping with them?

Daisy: I used to think bees were just a menace—other than the honey. Our friend Henry invited me to help him harvest honey recently, and it was fascinating to watch the process. I think we could learn a lot from bees. I’ll tell you one thing: bees eat honey but they don’t live long enough to eat the honey made from the nectar they collect. They have to depend on those who came before them, and they leave food for those who come behind them,

Janet: There’s a life lesson for humans in the bees’ pattern, I think! And there’s a new word in your vocabulary these days: fracking. I’m hearing more about that here in Nova Scotia, too. Do you think you’ll be able to figure out what it’s all about? It’s hard to know whose information to trust.

Daisy: I decided to take a course at the university to understand more about fracking. And yes, there are a wide variety of opinions on fracking—all of them quite strong too.  There’s a lot of excitement about being able to retrieve little pockets of gas from the shale, but I do worry that they are acting first and thinking afterward. That’s not the way to mess with things, if you ask me.

Janet: Your story isn’t particularly about faith, but you’ve recently returned to church. You’re even a Sunday School teacher now. Is there anything you’d like to share about what brought you back, or what difference faith makes in your life?

Daisy: I did come back to church. My son had moved to Singapore not long before the tsunami hit in south-east Asia. Singapore was not directly affected and my son was safe, but it unsettled me and it made me aware of how small I was and I needed something, Someone, who was bigger than a tsunami. I do teach Sunday School, and Father Jim comes to Wednesday nights, and I have a good friend who also came back to church with me. I feel like there’s solid rock under my feet now.

Janet: I find comfort in knowing there’s Someone bigger than me, too. Coffee or tea? And what’s your favourite season?

Daisy: Coffee in the morning, tea in the afternoon. Goodness, my favorite season… how can I choose? I don’t think I can pick one.

Janet: If you could do anything at all—travel, try something new, whatever—what might it be?

Daisy: I feel that that is exactly the question I am asking of myself these days. I don’t know the answer. There’s a lot that is new in my life, my new life without Arthur. I’ve had a nice, settled life until the last few months—and now I need to figure out what comes next.

Janet: Susan Fish is a fine person to write your story. Is there anything you’d like to say to her?

Daisy: She keeps asking me for my soup recipes. I was a bit surprised when she wanted to tell my story but she says she’s interested in grief and food and the power of community and sharing food, and I suppose my story really is about all these things, isn’t it? I would like to thank her for writing my story.

Janet: Daisy, I’m glad you joined us today, and I’m looking forward to getting to know you better as I read your story. I trust there are good surprises in store for you.

===

Ithaca, by Susan FishFor 39 years, Daisy Turner has been a professor’s wife, typing his notes and helping out. The centerpiece of her life is a weekly community dinner she hosts—one that always features soup. When her husband drops dead, Daisy has nothing to hold onto except, perhaps, the soup. Then, suddenly, Daisy finds herself entangled with a man whose wife is disabled, mothering a young activist-farmer, and swept into the controversy about fracking that has begun to concern their small Ivy League town.

Ithaca explores what happens when a quiet, almost sedimentary life meets the high-pressure forces of a small town. How do you rebuild after life as you know it is suddenly turned upside down—or is fracked?

Want to win a copy of Ithaca on Goodreads? Enter the giveaway before October 1, 2014.

Ithaca can be pre-ordered on Amazon or through your local bookstore. Book club members, this would be a great story for you to read together.

Susan Fish is a writer and editor (storywell.ca) in Waterloo, ON Canada. She loves to cook, walk her dog, and spend time with her husband and three kids. You can find Susan at her blog, Susan Fish Writes, and at Storywell.

Review: The Pregnant Pause of Grief, by Brenda J. Wood

Cover art: The Pregnant Pause of Grief, by Brenda J. WoodThe Pregnant Pause of Grief, by Brenda J. Wood (Word Alive, 2013)

“I’ve trusted God and His promises for years. Will they hold true in widowhood? I don’t know yet.” [p. 4]

So begins Brenda J. Wood’s poignant account of her “first trimester of widowhood” after the loss of her beloved husband, Ron. The book is written as a series of journal entries, in a conversational style as if Brenda were talking with the reader via email.

She writes about whatever’s on her mind that day, from spontaneous tears in public to fear of forgetting Ron to what she’s learning from God on how to cope. As hard as this new life is, she’s determined to push forward into it, even to laugh again. Ron wouldn’t want her to give in to the misery.

Most of the book is written during the third month ‘AR’ (After Ron’s passing), but the final pages include Ron’s testimony of the difference God made in his life, with brief notes from Brenda taking us past the anniversary of his death.

Brenda and Ron weren’t a perfect couple, but they loved each other deeply and for almost 50 years. One of the main take-aways from this book is the call to love our family and friends well, while we have them in our lives.

It’s a book that can help those who haven’t lost a spouse to understand the thoughts, emotions and needs of a grieving widow or widower. For example, I didn’t know that finances are often in short supply in the early months until the government, insurances etc catch up on the paperwork.

I think it would be a good resource to let newly-grieving readers know what they’re going through is normal.

One of the things I found most encouraging was Brenda’s determination to remember how God had looked after them in the past and her choice to believe that even in this new, painful place, God still had the power and the compassion to care for her.

Brenda J. Wood is a motivational speaker and writer based in Ontario. She’s also written a book to help children deal with grief, The Big Red Chair. You can read the first chapter of The Pregnant Pause of Grief or learn more about the author on her website, heartfeltdevotionals.com.

[Review copy from my personal library.]

In the Hard Times

Crow in the rainThese days I have two prayer lists near to my heart: eight teens numbing their pain with choices that make it worse, and five couples dealing with serious illness. And a third mini-list of friends with heavy burdens.

Trouble is alive and well, and what do we do about it? We can’t wish it away, and we can’t turn into whiners. Here are three posts that pointed me in the right direction this week:

Why do bad things happen? Glynis Belec knows there’s no easy answer and yet she finds strength to face a new round of battle. Bitter-sweet (at My Journey)

In the middle of global or personal suffering, how do we cope? Violet Nesdoly shares the value of a good lament. Job’s Lament (at Other Food: daily devo’s)

Mary DeMuth’s open personal lament shows the difference bringing our hurts to God can make. A Mourning Prayer (at Live Uncaged)

Of the many “songs for the hard times” the one I’m hearing today is from the Newsboys: “When the Tears Fall.”

A Jesus Prayer Day

When [blind Bartimaeus] heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”
Mark 10:47-48, NIV*

Into the middle of busy schedules and global crises, Monday brought the news that a young boy in our community had taken his life. He was maybe 15, 16?

How do you pray for something like this? There are words: “comfort the family, send them caring support, help his friends….”

I did some of that, but the need just felt too big. But I remembered reading about the Jesus Prayer in an online-only bonus article in Faith Today.

The NIV has eight references to a people crying out variations of “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”  Trusting that the Holy Spirit intercedes when we don’t know how to pray, I gave Him the burden by repeating “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy.” Mercy toward family, friends, He knew best.

The peace surprised me, but it shouldn’t. I’d stopped trying to carry—and fix—the problem, and given it to the Master Healer and Builder.

Today I found two excellent links on the history and effectiveness of the Jesus Prayer at the Orthodox Prayer and Concentric Net sites.

The exact wording of the Jesus Prayer is “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” It’s meant for more than forgiveness, for any kind of need. The “sinner” part is to remind us how powerless we are to help ourselves.

With all that’s going on in the world, near and far, we’re pretty helpless. Item 24 in my new gratitude journal is “Thank You for giving me the Jesus Prayer for when I’d need it.”

And thank You for Your great mercy, poured out in our lives. Open the grieving to receive it. Open us all to see our need of it. And I praise and thank You, God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit, that You don’t leave us as orphans in this world. That You care, and that You give the peace of Christ.

A song that comforts me in hurt is from the group Fee: “The Arms that Hold the Universe”.

*New International Version (NIV) Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

How do we deal with suffering?

The other week on the Canadian Authors Who are Christian blog, Canadian singer/songwriter and writer Carolyn Arends wrote:

I recently asked friends online what words and actions had been the least helpful in trying times, and I got a passionate and prolific response. I recognized many of the platitudes listed as things that had come out of my mouth.

If you read her full post, “Allow for Space in the Music: Acknowledging the mystery of pain,” I think you’ll be encouraged and better equipped to offer comfort. If nobody around you is hurting today, someone may be tomorrow. And if you’re hurting today, this may be something you can share with your friends to help them know how to not make it worse.