A Story About A Story
by Ann-Marie Valery
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Sometimes bad luck brings good luck. It was late afternoon as I was walking along a side walk when suddenly a glass door swung open directly in my path. I’m quickly able to stop before my nose hits the door. A man exits the door. Although there is no fault, I believe we both apologize. I continue to walk along until I reach an area where I decide to pause and look over the edge of greatly sloped land to the water below. This same man walks the same path and he also pauses. We have a nice chat. I see he is carrying a book entitled Rabbit Run. I ask if, by chance, he knows of any book discussions groups. Lo and behold, he says yes, and then he explains about the Monday night group at the Chelmsford Library. He states that this very book is the one he is reading for this months selection. I am filled with delight about the book discussion group but know that the next meeting would be approaching too soon for me to read the entire book. Still and all, I know it would be fun to attend the next group even without having been able to read the book. I learn that the man’s name is Tom and I express that I will see him there!

Even without having read the book, it was highly interesting to hear what everyone had to say about John Updike’s book entitled Rabbit Run! Toward the end of the meeting, a discussion took place about the book for next month. This book is entitled “Can We Talk About Something More Pleasant,” by Roz Chast.

I investigated the book. Yes, I just used the word investigate instead of the phrase ‘check it out.’ Reading for me has never been easy. Learning disabilities, along with two serious traumatic brain injuries that left permanent damage, is not desired but facts I must face. So when I say investigate, I really mean it. I must investigate the book throughly to see if it is a book I will be able to read. Additionally, I must ponder how many words I will need to relearn, words that I use to know. I have to decide if any given book will become a full or partial study task or will it be a natural read. When I investigated “Something More Pleasant,” by Roz Chast, I instantly knew it would be a natural read. The cartoon-comic style would also benefit me.

What I didn’t know is that I would be so moved by such a book. Various parts of the author’s story really hit home for me. Some parts hit to the core. But, let me start at the beginning of my story. My story is about reading her story—and why I am calling this “A Story About A Story.”

While in bed two mornings, I had read up to Chapter 9. I remember having many thoughts but the two that stuck in my mind most are as follows. One, I remember thinking that the cartoon-comic style really ‘helps soften the blow’ of a sad story of her elderly parents. Two, I recall thinking ‘what an honest author,’ who doesn’t hide her own thoughts, actions and/or non-actions, no matter how unfavorable it may appear to her audience. To me, this is just the way it should be; however, I found it admirable that she was able to do this because she actually could have done it differently, yet she didn’t pick this route. She picked the route of sharing her inner thoughts at particular times frames in this real-life ordeal.

After reading up to Chapter 9 in two sittings, I decided to review before reading on. I found that when I did go back, the characters were no longer comic, but very real. I especially felt this when I again saw the two real photos. I asked myself why. Why didn’t I feel what I’m feeling now the first time I saw these two real photos. The answer is simple. The text did its job. It conveyed that these were not just characters in a book, they were real people, real people just like you and me. Yet, they were no more. The author reveals very early into the book that these two parents are no more and she gives the dates of death. There is no foreshadowing, yet instead just the straight facts. Straight, the same way the author tells her story.

Now it is time for me to be straight too. I must confess that I saw a little of myself in all three real life characters (Father, Mother & Daughter). The things I noticed about myself were not my best qualities, yet at the same time, I realized the humanness of it all. My emotions went from high to low. I laughed. I cried.

For example, I was touched by the poem on Page 53 that the Mother had written when she acknowledged her own mistake. Page 65 is pure perfection. I love the way it reads. A perfect example of the pros and cons of senility, yet it ends on a happy note with an adorable illustration. Page 67 didn’t make me cry the first time around but when I went back to review, it did. As I said, things were more real in my review process, plus having seen the poem in her own true handwriting had an impact. Page 74 brought a good laugh while Page 80 revealed the words “psychologically uncomfortable,” in relationship to having too much food on a plate—a situation in which I’ve never experienced and probably never will. On Page 91, I enjoyed how the author summed up a situation about her parents by writing a page called “A Play in Six Lines.”

As I was reviewing the book, up to Chapter 9, that was previously read, I was also cooking something on the stove top and thawing out some chocolate cake. I had this book on my kitchen table and I kept going back and forth from the stove to the book. And, checking the cake to see if it thawed out yet. The longest time span for staying on any given page in the book came to me on Page 93. I didn’t even see it coming the second time around.

Yes, Page 93 made me cry the first time around but surely I wouldn’t cry the second time around now would I? Well, I was wrong. I cried even more the second time around. Both times I could identify a portion of the page that made this happen, it was #5. I was also able to pin point why this hit me so hard. It related to a personal experience I had with my own dad, and it struck at core level. It struck core level twice because it pertained to the “sleeping” and it also pertained to the actual “mattress” that my dad had been using.

When I first took my dad to the hospital, both myself and my older brother assumed dad would be coming back to his house some time in the future but we knew he needed some immediate care as soon as he was released from the hospital. So I turned my dining room into a bedroom for my dad. I set up a full sized mattress for him along with a television and many other things that I thought would make him comfortable. When my dad first lay on the mattress he reacted in a positive way that was quite surprising to me. He continued to rave about the mattress. Yes, it was a comfortable mattress indeed but not the best mattress in the house. Nonetheless, I was pleased that he was so happy. Dad continued to go in and out of the hospital. At one time he was doing so well that we thought he might be able to return home.

My older brother and I decided to get the heat turned back up and prepare the house. My brother then decided that we should flip the mattress and also change the sheets. We were both shocked when we realized the condition of the mattress. We had no idea. The present year was 2007 and the mattress turned out to be the very same mattress that my parents had as far back as 1969 when they moved from Burlington, MA. We even questioned how long he owned the mattress prior to 1969. Could it be the mattress my parents had when they moved into the Burlington home back around 1956? We didn’t know. Again, we were shocked. The old mattress explained many things. His back aches. His poor sleep. And, why he raved about the mattress at my house.

The real sadness isn’t really about the mattress though. The real sadness is that my dad didn’t do anything to make himself more comfortable. He certainly could have purchased another mattress and he certainly could have had a new mattress delivered to the house. Heck, he could have carried a new mattress himself. He was strong. He didn’t stop working until he was 83 years old. There was no good reason he should not have had a nice mattress for himself. Yet, I knew the reason he didn’t. His entire life was spent doing for his children. He actually wanted to earn enough money to make sure that his children would be provided for after he was gone. He worked his whole life for his kids. He spent nothing on himself, ever. Not because he lived through the depression but for other reasons. Reasons that would go beyond this short story of mine. It was heart breaking to both my brother and I to realize that dad never bought himself a comfortable mattress. We exchanged a long look at each other before we spoke. Later, in May of 2008, we shared another long look at each other when we were flanked over my dad as he was dying in the hospital. All of these thoughts and feelings got stirred up on Page 93 of the book.

And so I sat there, at my kitchen table, with this new lovely book in front of me, crying. And, crying. I knew it could be endless. But to tell my entire story would require a book in itself. Eventually I went back to the stove and I checked the chocolate cake. I felt I really needed the chocolate cake just about now but it wasn’t quite ready. Was I ready—was I ready to continue reading?

When I did get back to the book, I gave more thought to the question I had asked the book discussion group members the week earlier when they had read Rabbit Run. I specifically asked about the book evoking their emotions and how they are able to separate their emotions long enough to step back and decide if they would say they liked the book vs. did not like the book. I stated what I knew about live theater where we end up liking and/or not liking a character, and how the theater play is considered a success if it moves us in some way.

At this point in my review, I realized that I had already invested myself in this book. It was indeed an emotional investment. I reviewed two more pages and then I was caught up to where I had left off before. I would continue with Chapter 9. This also marks the point in that I decided maybe I should write my own story about reading this book. This thought may have arisen because I was so moved.

When I returned to the book, I only had to read a little more before I was crying again. What brought on these tears? Well, it was Page 104. It was a combination of the illustration and the last words on the page where the author states that it was the last time her parents saw their apartment. I seem to not do well with anything that is ‘the last.’

It was now time for the chocolate cake. And, since my own health is on the line, I alternated between eating steamed beets and chocolate cake. I probably wouldn’t cry if I ran out of beets forever or if the last were gone from the pan. And, so the reading went on.

I got a laugh on Page 122 when I read about “stuff” and “postmortemistically.” My emotions ran high and low throughout the next 106 pages but I won’t put you on that roller coaster with me. (Retrospectively, nothing compared to Page 93, not even the end of the book, so the worst was over for me, or should I say I felt the most on Page 93.) I read a large chunk of the book this particular day and then finished the book with two more readings on different days.

I love the ending pages where as the author shares her own realizations. I love that this book is real life. I love that the comics help soften the blow of hardships. I love that the author is honest in her own shortcomings. Best of all though, I love that love was finally spoken.

They say if you read a book and feel nothing then this means that the author has failed. This author did not fail. Even if the book does not hit a personal cord with you about something specific, it does touch your heart. A book that touches your heart is a success. Of course, this is just my own opinion. Read the book and decide what you think. Or, should I say decide what you feel. My own life experience, and recent realizations are that ‘emotions are meant to flow through us’ and that we are ‘not to hold onto any one emotion for too long.’ I am learning to apply this concept and I can say that it does work. With this being said, I think I lingered on Page 93 just as long as I should have and then I moved on. Oh, and the chocolate cake was good!

Brand	N/A
Rating	4.5 (3117 ratings)
Price	$11.39
Category	Aging Parents

Can't We Talk about Something More Pleasant?: A Memoir