Three Days

It’s been an up-and-down week.  On Monday I posted about my funk.  And boy, was it a funk.  I walked outside for an hour and a half with Kirby before going to pick up the kids, just because I couldn’t stand to be inside and still.

Monday night I went to Book Club and mentioned a book that I wanted everyone to read, “Between Me and the River”, by Carrie Host.  (I wrote a review about it a few weeks ago).  I am absolutely passionate about this book because, even though it’s a memoir about her cancer experiences, it’s really a book about LIVING.  There’s no other way to put it.  The author, Carrie Host, is a vibrant, passionate, totally conscious person who is living every day with as much love, humor and intensity as she possibly can.  She doesn’t write a “poor me” book filled with cynicism, complaints, and gory details of ghastly procedures.  She writes about being a Mom, being protective of her children, and finding the courage to resist the metaphorical river that can threaten the emotional stability of anyone when an unexpected “undercurrent” pulls you beneath the surface.

I tried so very hard to convey this to my group and was completely frustrated by the utter lack of response I got. What, another book about cancer?  NO.  A book about living.  Two different things.  Could not be more diametrically opposed. The group was reluctant, at best, to read this book given that we are all mothers and don’t want to seriously contemplate our own deaths.  I kept saying “This is not a book about death.  It’s a book about LIFE.” 

I don’t know if this comes across in my writing, but I am a pretty intense person when I’m passionate about something.  And Monday night, I was intensely passionate about this book and everything it stands for.  I finally gave up trying and walked away in a fit of frustration, and left shortly thereafter, crying.  I didn’t sleep much at all that night. 

Tuesday was no better.  I emailed and spoke on the phone with several members of the book group and found out that no one held my intensity against me.  J  I suggested that we skip this book, given that I have so much enthusiasm for it and there is so much reluctance by everyone else.  By Tuesday night I was emotionally drained and slept a beautiful eleven hours. 

By Wednesday morning I was ready for a good long run and enjoyed an easy 10 miles before I went to a coffee meeting with a prospective employer. I won’t say anything more about that now, except that the meeting was fantastic and I walked away more excited than ever about the potential of the job I’m in discussions about.  If this goes the way I think it will based on yesterday’s meeting, this is going to be huge.  Absolutely huge.  When that happens, I promise I’ll spill the details.

Anyway, back to the morning:  When I got back from the run the phone was ringing.  It was Sarah, a member of the Book Club that I hadn’t spoken with on Tuesday.  She, too, had been reticent to read the book.  She called to tell me a story.

While her kids were in school on Tuesday, she went to the Boulder Bookstore to get our February reading selection; Benazir Bhutto’s “Reconciliation”. The Bookstore did not have it in stock, so she perused the shelves and came across “Between Me and the River”.  She picked it up and examined the cover and author’s photo thoroughly before sitting down to read a few pages.  An hour and 40 pages later, she realized her parking meter was about to expire, so left the store in a hurry to get her kids from school and take them ice skating.

While ice skating, she saw a silver car pull up to the ice rink.  A beautiful woman got out and called to someone on the ice rink.  “Amory, Amory!”  Sarah’s attention was caught because “Amory” is the name of Carrie Host’s husband.  Well, long story short, the woman was Carrie Host and the man and boy on the ice skating rink were her husband and son.   

Sarah was blown away by Carrie’s book, her voice, her passion as a mother (so many of us can relate to that) and her unending humor and vibrancy.  When she met Carrie, she stood there thinking, “This beautiful woman is absolutely brimming with life. Carrie doesn’t need US.  But WE need her.”  And that’s the essence of the email Sarah wrote to the book group.

Late Wednesday evening Carrie and I spoke on the phone (she has graciously agreed to sign a copy of her book for a dear friend of mine, and we’ll meet for a quick breakfast on Friday morning).  How can I say this?  Carrie’s energy is amazing.  She’s more ALIVE than three quarters of the people walking on this planet.  Some people you can just talk to and feel energized by them.  She’s one of them.  I had a hard time sleeping last night because all this good juice was still running through me.

Can I just say that you NEED to read this book?  Just take my word for it.  Please.  Reserve your judgment and buy this book, sit down, and just read it.

And thus, three fun filled days in the life of Lara came to an end.  Two lows, followed by an incredible high.  This year is going to be amazing, I can feel it.