This Lovely Life

I love it when a book comes at just the right time. This Lovely Life, written by Vicki Forman, has been sitting in my pile since it's release but I just opened it's pages last week. I have followed Vicki's writing since first discovering her on Literary Mama and then on her own blog over a year ago. As I was familiar with her writing, I knew that Vicki's book would be a treasure, one that would stick with me. Given it's topic, the birth her extremely premature twins, the death of one and the early childhood of the other, I knew the reading would be intense. What I did not know were the lessons it would teach.

Caroline's anxiety was sky high this weekend. She is scheduled for her second sleep study on Wednesday and her mind is adrift with worry and the 'unfairness' of life. She lashed out at Katherine, at me and Rob. Never able to settle into play or even to relax as I read aloud to her. Needless to say, this was a long weekend for each of us.

For me, though, I took 'breaks' from my life to dive into Vicki's. This Lovely Life, being the book from which I couldn't escape. At one point, I followed Katherine as she rode her scooter, my book held up in front of me as I walked. She asked why I couldn't keep up with her and I responded that it was hard to walk and read at the same time. Even as I said this, I knew I should put the book down but I just couldn't.

As I read, I desperately needed the book to be over. I needed to run away from the suffering but also from the intensity of Vicki's persistence and love of her son. The emotions were too strong and I needed to shut them down. As I read though, I couldn't help thinking of the obvious. I could put this book down. Soon it would be over. But Vicki could not close her book. Living with a multiply disabled son was her life. And instead of titling her book, 'This Hard Life', the title is 'This Lovely Life.'

As I struggled to settle Caroline and remembered the annoyance of needing to sleep with her at the hospital as machines measured any improvements in apnea and restless leg, I thought of Vicki and her lovely life.

And embraced my own...my own lovely life.