Showing posts with label loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label loss. Show all posts

Thursday, July 30, 2026

A Monster Calls (Patrick Ness)

 


Someone must of recommended this book to me. I should keep better track because whoever that was, I need to have a conversation with!! 

This is quite a book. It's almost a short story - but maybe a novella is more correct. The way it is written is brilliant and captivating. 

Notes:

- it slowly unraveled for me. I realized that the monster is pushing Connor to face his feelings surrounding his mother's illness....but then then he is the monster sometimes. Maybe Connor unconsciously knows the truth but is afraid to face it. It's all a lot for a young boy. I'm shattered for him.

- This book was rather timely as I have an aunt who is really facing some big health struggles. How do books find you at just the right time?! This was definitely one. 

- The monster tree is a yew tree - which ends up being a type of treatment his mother tries as a last ditch effort. It doesn't work. 

Goodreads says:

The bestselling novel about love, loss and hope from the twice Carnegie Medal-winning Patrick Ness.

Conor has the same dream every night, ever since his mother first fell ill, ever since she started the treatments that don't quite seem to be working. But tonight is different. Tonight, when he wakes, there's a visitor at his window. It's ancient, elemental, a force of nature. And it wants the most dangerous thing of all from Conor. It wants the truth.

Patrick Ness takes the final idea of the late, award-winning writer Siobhan Dowd and weaves an extraordinary and heartbreaking tale of mischief, healing and above all, the courage it takes to survive.

Friday, July 24, 2026

A Time to Gather (Bruce Feiler)

 

A while ago I decided I needed to re-read more often. Each month I pick a book that is worth re-reading. This month I was to re-read The Ritual Effect, but this book came up in my e-book holds at the library so I decided to read it instead. It was well-worth it and a good companion to The Ritual Effect. 

I really like this author. I put a couple more of his books on hold.

The first few chapters were about rituals we go through in life: birth rituals, entering adulthood, marriage, divorce...and of course, death. I read the death chapter while at my Auntie Shirley's building. I was waiting for her to arrive back at the senior's home from the hospital. I went down to the chapel where it was quiet and read there. They had a table set up with pictures of people who had passed away over the past six months (or maybe it was a year. I can't recall). Anyway, it was a weird mash up of coincidences to be reading about death outside a Catholic chapel with pictures and birth and death dates of all the people from that home. 

Notes:

- p. 229 Rituals are a means of collective time travel. And there's no better place to begin those trips than from our original home: nature.

- p. 250 When times are easy and there's plenty to go around, individuals can go it alone. But when conditions are harsh and life is tenuous, it takes a team sworn to reciprocity to keep life going forward (actually from Braiding Sweetgrass).

p. 260 What distinguishes ritual from routine and habit:

  • Rituals are intentional, symbolic, elevated actions
  • Routines are intentional, repeated actions.
  • Habits are automatic, repeated actions
Chapter 12 was called The Garden of Lost Children all about rituals around pregnancy loss - miscarriage, stillborn births, death of children and even abortions. He had a lot of information about stillborn children - which of course, really touched me. I had a stillborn baby in 2007. She would be 19 this year! 
  • p. 335 Apparently, King Tut (Tutankhamen) was buried with two stillborn baby girls. ...largely because Carter kept it secret. p. 338 In 1978, the two mummies were x-rayed and discovered to be stillborn girls who had died at twenty-four and thirty-six weeks. They had congenital abnormalities related to spina bifida that are consistent with inbreeding - Tutankhamen's parents were biological siblings, which explains his twisted spine, elongated skull, and club foot; his wife was his half sister. In 2001, The British medical historian Geoffrey Chamberlain argued that the mummies were identical girls who suffered from twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome - the same condition the author and his wife and been warned about - which led to their premature deaths.
  • p. 338 I met a woman who every year on the anniversary of her abortion would make a meal that her child would have liked at that age - in the early years it was juice boxes and candy necklaces, in the teenage years it was hamburgers and french fries. She would knit a red cap, place a bib on the statue, and serve a meal. It was an ocean of love.
  • p. 340 Irish traditions around baby deaths - they would bury corpses under the roofs of churches, a practice known as eaves-drop burials, so that dripping water might stealthily baptize their unprotected children
  • p. 343 Many of the rituals around child death are done in a group. There's so much shame around losing a child. The only medicine strong enough to counter that pain is the bllessings of not being alone.
  • p. 344 In the 2000s, scholars released studies showing that parents who see, hold, sniff, dress, kiss, and comfort their stillborn children have better mental health outcomes than those denied the privilege.
  • p. 346 As Cheryl Haggard observed (started an organization called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, a nonprofit that offers free, professional remembrance photos to families that have lost a child), "Some may look at us and think we photograph dead or dying babies, my perspective is: We don't photograph death, we capture love. And the love between a parent and a child can never be broken."
  • Chapter 13 is called A Moment of Hope and is all about cleansing rituals (water or oil....if only the author knew about our temples) and renewing rituals (again....this made me think of our temple). It also talked about "potlatches"....a ritual where people give all they have collected to those less fortunate (hello law of consecration?)
  • Interesting podcast to check out: Shame Pinata: Creating Rites of Passage for Real-Life Transitions
  • p. 383 Rituals connect us; the correct imbalances among us; they celebrate our loftiest moments; they chronicle our deepest aspirations. But mostly they make us feel at home. As Thomas Hovenden captured in another moment of national crises, they replace our grief over broken home ties with a vision of ties that bind.
P. 393 How to design your own rituals: 
  • 1. Reverence: Do what makes you feel at home. Identify what you're most missing from home  - whether that's safety, empathy, love, or joy - and design a ritual with that goal in mind
  • 2. Context: Identify your tension; define your intention. It must address the underlying uncertainty, fluidity and instability in the group; and provide comfort, relief, and support for that volatility. Ask, "What is our pain point? What is the tension, transition, or turbulence that we're experiencing?" Then, "What intention matches that tension?"
    • A = agency (what we do, make, or create; our me story)
    • B = belonging (our relationships, friends, loved ones, and colleagues; our we story)
    • C = cause (a calling, mission, or purpose, our thee story)
  • 3. Options: off-the-shelf or do-it-yourself, big or small, sacred space or third space.
  • 4. Pointers: The four somethings (old, new, borrowed, you)
  • 5. Instructions: boundaries, stakes, compromise, empathy, hope 
    • draw a boundary that defines the sacred space
    • articulate the stakes
    • compromise-rehearse on something important
    • create and atmosphere of empathy
    • end with a moment of hope


  • p. 400 Rituals work in times of change because they titrate change. They work in times of social upheaval because they modulate social upheaval. They work in times of religious flux because the bridge the religious, the irreligious, the spiritual, and the I'm not religious but I'm spiritual.
  • Rituals work because they are acts. They are values lived out loud. As the old adage goes, it's easier to act oneself into a new way of thinking than to think oneself into a new way of acting. A genius of ritual is that it's an old way of acting that leads to a new way of thinking.
  • Rituals work because they are shared. Our earliest ancestors shouted, waved sticks, and stamped their feet in unison to signal to predators that they were more powerful together than they were apart; our latest brain researchers have shown that when we sing, dance, eat, or work together, not only do our bodies synchronize, but our feelings do, too. To be in union is to become a union; to be in a group is to become a groupkeeper.
  • Rituals work because they are unnecessary. We live in a stranglehold of necessities, with deadening schedules, dulling routines, and draining obligations. Rituals are the unnecessities that unyoke those necessities - they upend schedules, disrupt routines, sideline obligations. They force us to focus on what Keats deemed our "negative capability," the ability to be in "uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts" without reflexively grasping for reason or explanation.
  • Finally, rituals work because they are portable, replicable versions or home. "The ache for home lives in all of us," Maya Angelou said, "The safe place where we can go as we are." Today we need that safe space more than ever - for morale making, for meaning making, for memory making.




Goodreads says:


At a time when our shared humanity is under threat and traditional life rituals are losing favor, one of our great decoders of human connection chronicles the astonishing rise of reinvented life rituals around the world and offers a blueprint for restoring togetherness.

It’s easy to be overwhelmed by the sharp decline in the types of life rituals that have been the tentpoles of family and community life since time immemorial. Birth rituals have plummeted, as have comings-of-age. Fewer than half of Americans are married today; only one in three is buried. “It took us ten thousand years to establish cultural norms around how we mark collective life transitions,” writes Bruce Feiler. “It took us fifty years to dismantle them.” We have clearly entered what Feiler calls a “celebration recession.” Can this threat to society be reversed? 

Feiler wanted to find out. As he did with his groundbreaking series Walking the Bible, Feiler went on a round-the-world ritual road trip, attending—and participating in—life rituals in sixteen countries on six continents. These rarely seen spectacles include an adolescent tooth filing in Bali, a mass baptism in the Vatican, and a tribal bride price negotiation in South Africa. He witnessed six weddings in a day in Las Vegas and ten funerals in a week in Ireland.

As he did with Life Is in the Transitions, Feiler also gathered the stories of a hundred ritual designers in twenty-six countries, including a Pentecostal priest in Nigeria who started a fertility circle, the creator of the Purple Pundit Project in New Jersey who leads LGBTQ+ Hindu weddings, and the founder of an app in Canada that helps “create your own rites of passage.”

What Feiler emerged with is a literary achievement, at once a great adventure story in the tradition of Sebastian Junger and Cheryl Strayed; a richly reported sociological portrait in the vein of Robert Putnam and Barbara Ehrenreich; and a conversation-shaping piece of social commentary in the mode of David Brooks and Jonathan Haidt.

Far from a ritual recession, we are in the midst of a  ritual renaissance, one that our outdated radar screens have failed to pick up. Fed up with top-down life rituals, everyday people are reimagining rituals at a pace unseen in human history. From boomers to Gen Z and boosted by social media, this new movement is reviving life rituals for a new century and building thriving communities in the process.

From a master storyteller on the trail of an urgent, untold story, what Feiler has created is a hopeful field guide to modern ritual; a tool kit for infusing collective meaning into our lives; and, perhaps, a framework for repairing our homesick world.

Thursday, May 7, 2026

The Unlikely Tale of Chase and Finnegan (Jasmine Warga)

 

I read this with my grade 3 book club. I loved it! My students said they didn't think it had enough action - but we had a great book club activity after. We played memory with memory cards I had made about the book. It was a great way to discuss different things about the book. 

All the way through you don't know why Finnegan is a rescue dog. His story from his past slowly unfolds and breaks your heart. 

This would be a great read-aloud. I will put it on my list for next year! 

Goodreads says:

Finnegan is a rescue dog with a broken heart.
Chase is an anxious cheetah cub, newly orphaned.

The two animals couldn't be more different. But one day, they are brought together for the unlikeliest of Finnegan must help Chase gain the confidence she needs to perform as part of an educational program for children at a zoo.

Finnegan and Chase have each suffered losses and have trouble trusting. Yet somehow, they are just what the other needs. But if Finnegan isn’t able to help Chase overcome her fears, he won’t just be letting Chase down–he could be risking his new home as well.

Inspired by true stories from zoos across the country, award-winning author Jasmine Warga creates a deeply moving tale about how the power of friendship can transcend anything – even species.

Thursday, January 1, 2026

Nothing in Common (Kate Hoefler and Corinna Luyken)

 


This is a message for our time. We are all connected - even though we don't think we are. Beauty can be found in diversity...but we have to get beyond the surface. This may be a kid's book, but I know a swack of adults that need this message. 

The author says, "The dog could do marvelous things. And did. Things they felt under the floors of their hearts." I had to think about that for a while. Maybe she means feelings that we bury? An emotion that we haven't quite figured out yet? 

Together, two people who have nothing in common bring joy to someone. None of them are the same. They each feel alone - but together, they find joy....from heaven.

I don't know Kate Hoefler but Corinna Luyken is a master story teller. She wrote/illustrated The Book of Mistakes and Adrian Simcox Does NOT Have a Horse....and more (those are two that I have previously read)

Goodreads says:

Two neighbors both love to watch the old man and his dog from their windows, but they never wave to each other. After all, they have nothing in common. But everything changes when they are the only ones who notice that one day is different—there is the old man, but where is the dog?

Thursday, June 20, 2024

The Unexpected Love Story of Alfred Fiddleduckling (Timothy Basil Ering)

 

I got to hear Timothy Basil Ering speak once and he totally won me over. He was the illustrator for The Tale of Despereaux and he came across as very sincere and humble and hard working. 

It is easy to see, when reading books aloud to my class, which ones are magical. This one had everyone rivted with the ups and downs in the story. It's almost musical.

Goodreads says:

Expect something unexpected when a duckling lost at sea adopts a musical new friend in a whimsical, heart-lifting story from Timothy Basil Ering.
Captain Alfred is sailing home with new ducks for his farm when his little boat is caught in an unexpected and mighty storm. Everything aboard the ship is flung to the far reaches of the sea, including the very special and beautiful duck egg he had nestled safely inside his fiddle case. But perhaps all is not lost: the little duckling stumbles out of his shell and discovers Captain Alfred's fiddle, floating not too far away in the waves. And when the duckling embraces the instrument with all his heart, what happens next is pure magic. Through an enchanting read-aloud text and beautiful artwork, award-winning author-illustrator Timothy Basil Ering shares a thrilling and fantastical story of a farmer, a gentle old lady, a dancing dog, and one brave, tiny duckling that will warm the heart.

Monday, November 14, 2022

Bittersweet (Susan Cain)

 

Susan Cain has done it again. This is another brilliant book. It has gospel truths in it focused on how life cannot be wonderful without the terrible and sad parts. I remember when Destiny was born silently how people tried to cheer me up and tell me how grateful I must be <insert a number of different things....have two healthy children.....know that we will have our children with us in the eternities....etc> but I didn't find my solace in those things, even though I did realize how important they were. I needed that time for sadness and grief. Sometimes I still do.  Too often people in North America (and in my religion) are far too uncomfortable with sadness. We are kind of expected to see the bright side and simply be happy. There is a place for the sadness, sorrow and longing though. I need this sorrow and sadness and longing for many things, perhaps most of all, to remind me that life is fragile and to appreciate it. This book reminds me again that it is okay to get what I need. It's okay to long for something that is lost or just simply never was.

There's a lot to this book. I'd definitely find it worthwhile to read it again.


Goodreads says:

In her new masterpiece, the author of the bestselling phenomenon Quiet reveals the power of a bittersweet outlook on life, and why we’ve been so blind to its value.

With Quiet, Susan Cain urged our society to cultivate space for the undervalued, indispensable introverts among us, thereby revealing an untapped power hidden in plain sight. Now she employs the same mix of research, storytelling, and memoir to explore why we experience sorrow and longing, and the surprising lessons these states of mind teach us about creativity, compassion, leadership, spirituality, mortality, and love.

Bittersweetness is a tendency to states of longing, poignancy, and sorrow; an acute awareness of passing time; and a curiously piercing joy when beholding beauty. It recognizes that light and dark, birth and death—bitter and sweet—are forever paired. A song in a minor key, an elegiac poem, or even a touching television commercial all can bring us to this sublime, even holy, state of mind—and, ultimately, to greater kinship with our fellow humans.

But bittersweetness is not, as we tend to think, just a momentary feeling or event. It’s also a way of being, a storied heritage. Our artistic and spiritual traditions—amplified by recent scientific and management research—teach us its power.

Cain shows how a bittersweet state of mind is the quiet force that helps us transcend our personal and collective pain. If we don’t acknowledge our own sorrows and longings, she says, we can end up inflicting them on others via abuse, domination, or neglect. But if we realize that all humans know—or will know—loss and suffering, we can turn toward each other. And we can learn to transform our own pain into creativity, transcendence, and connection.

At a time of profound discord and personal anxiety, Bittersweet brings us together in deep and unexpected ways.