Book Review II

While we were on vacation, a dear friend and mentor (may I call you a mentor, dear Jane?) e-mailed me with a book recommendation. (Remember, my idea of a good vacation is to sit in bed and read a book.) The Hawk and the Dove is a trilogy by Penelope Wilcox, telling the story of Benedictine monks in the 1300s. My friend told me she enjoyed all three books of the trilogy, but that the last, The Long Fall, made her think of my journey with my parents.

TLF deals with the decline and death of a beloved character, a father figure. Although set in a monastery, the experiences related parallel our own. One passage that really stuck with me is from a scene where, after another setback, a friend is asking if his loved one will live. The reply:

"...You can't say. How many times must a ship be dashed against the rocks before it finally tears apart? Each time is one step nearer the last time. Each battering brings further disintegration. All we can say for sure is that right up to the end, before anything else, this broken, helpless, suffering being is a living soul, a house of God's spirit, needy of tenderness, worthy of respect. I don't know..."

I love the metaphor of a ship for my dad. I picture the huge ocean ships we saw on Pier 21 in Galveston. I can see each setback, each loss of strength, each episode of mental wandering as casting off another mooring as Dad prepares to set sail.