What do you think?
Rate this book


130 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2018
The truth is, I am not a person who is any good at loving. Although I try, I am famously cold. I don’t hug people when I meet them or say goodbye to them, not even people I like very much. I don’t watch movies about love - shudder at the very thought - or sing any of those appalling love songs, or admire lovesickness or think it is cute or touching. I don’t talk about love, I don’t even fully believe that there is such a thing as love. (I exclude from that belief parent-child love. I do believe in that. And I guess that I have to admit that apparently I believe that siblings can love each other, at least now and then, for awhile.)I hadn’t read anything by Sharon Butala and have loved the cracking voices of each of these various women. Ironically, this edition must have been printed with young people in mind, not old women, since the font is excruciatingly small and difficult for old eyes to read without assistance. Sigh. However I’m glad I persevered to the end and gave each story and narrator the attention they deserved. Sharon Butala is a wonderful Canadian writer who herself is now in her 80s, and I highly recommend this collection.
…my son Herald … now cares nothing for me... has busied himself year by year by wiping me out of his world.
Once in a while, on his trips across the country to this university or that, he stops off for a short visit with me. Otherwise, I no longer see him, and I have succeeded after years of trying, to move him from the forefront of my mind to somewhere much further back, so that his absence from my life long ago stopped causing me much suffering.