Sunday, August 02, 2009

The Unexpected Gift

Things I hate right now:

  • Cancer coming back
  • Bones so brittle you can't hug the one you love
  • Cold hospital rooms
  • Doctors who don't tell a patient that their neck is broken (C-6) for over a month
  • Family members who want to tear each other apart rather than pull together in the face of tragedy
  • Hearing "you said that last time" when I tell someone that my uncle's in the hospital and not expected to live long
  • The loss of privacy that comes at the end of life passed off a normal
  • Nurses who chide or scold family for having too many visitors in the room (when it's not ICU)
  • That Mia will never really know him

The Unexpected Gift by Michelle Bulmer Atha & Meaghan Gonzales Wagar is a short yet poignant story about two women finding hope in each other. Drew Warren has just ended her marriage and is trying to find her place in life. As a mother of two with a part time job, her life revolved around her husband and children. Starting over at 39 was not part of her plan. Leah Cline didn't plan to be pregnant at 18, but she's spent much of her life at the mercy of others: alcoholic mother, distant grandmother, and now abusive boyfriend. They meet when Drew gives Leah some hand-me-down baby items and they feel an instant bond. Leah gives Drew hope and makes her appreciate her many blessings. Drew mentors Leah and helps her on the search for her long-lost father. Together they will be stronger than they could ever be apart. The authors, long-time friends, wrote this to emphasize female friendship, and the story definitely succeeds. It's a bit obvious that this is their debut, the dialogue is a bit stiff in spots, and they often tell instead of show. I hope that this is just the beginning of a long writing career for them, because this book is filled with promise.

Today's picture is of me with my Uncle Howard. I was about five years old, and he was proud of the fish he caught, and I didn't want to be anywhere near it! Please pray for him to have relief from his constant pain.