Oh, my, February is lurching by, and I’m struggling. Earlier this week, my father was readmitted to the hospital; he is weak and in ICU but most likely will go back to the skilled nursing facility in a few days. My poor dad! He must feel like a punching bag, what with all the moving and PT and tests and IVs.
This, plus the latest learning cycle on my relatively new job, has rendered my brain matter into kibble.
With a mind of mush, I’m in the pick-up-put-down mode of reading. Having picked up and put down several other books, including Chabon’s Yiddish Policement’s Union (fantastic writing, but too difficult for kibble-head), I decided to focus on books that I can read in chunks. And I’m trying to find books to make myself understand or come to terms with old age. Happily, there are books just made for that purpose! I’m delving into:
At Seventy: A Journal by May Sarton. She gives a special spin to the mundane and makes 70 look enviable.
Living Without Regret: Growing Old in the Light of Tibetan Buddhism by Arnaud Maitland. I’m 3/4 of the way through. This is great stuff. I will share some pearls of wisdom soon.
The Gentleman from San Francisco by Ivan Bunin. Short stories are great for short spurts of reading. I have been meaning to dip my toes into this one. Will also focus on the reading at A Curious Singularity.
Was it only last year I read my second volume of Proust, plus Henry James and Cervantes and Hugo? Wistful sigh.