Thursday, July 19, 2012

Review of "You Take It From Here" by Pamela Ribon

There are certain moments you don’t want to relive. They’re filed away in your memory under “DO NOT OPEN” but ofcourse who can resist those letters time and again, needing in fact to go back there once again. You’d think in time the pain would have faded, it hasn’t, it’s just a different type of pain. For me that memory is hearing “we put a frozen section under a microscope and you have cancer.” But the pain was never about me. I had known. I wasn’t under any illusions about what I was sick with; it was having to tell my parents who were staring at my expectedly, as if there was a miracle and everything could be explained away by something other than cancer. It was having to sit there with them each holding my hand as my doctor told me how very sick I was. It was knowing that on my first chemo, my father was in the waiting room collapsing in on himself hearing that his baby girl, his only daughter, his first born, may die before she turns 24.

Why am I telling you this in a book review? Because that’s the part of cancer that Pamela Ribon got so painfully right that I’m sitting here my eyes swimming in tears and remembering. Being sick sucks, I think we can all agree on that. But it’s so much harder for the people around you-because even though you are sick with this disease that seems to come out of nowhere like a ninja, everyone gets to see you sick. It’s hard for them to remember you NOT sick, sort of like how when you’re nauseous you can’t remember what it’s like to NOT be nauseous . Which is why I empathized with Smidge. Forces of nature do not want to be remembered in any other way. They’d rather go out in a blaze of glory on their own terms, than by this disease that was not invited to the party.

Smidge will annoy you. She will frustrate you, make you bang your head against a wall and be like "what in the hell is this woman doing?" Dani will do the same but for different reasons. But eventually you'll get it. You'll get them. You'll get their friendship in its function, dysfunction and how they ultimately are each other's soulmates. You'll understand Smidge's request-not logically ofcourse. But nothing about this type of deep friendship is LOGICAL-if it was it wouldn't be what it is. Beautiful, wrenching and sure co dependent. But sometimes you're lucky enough to find a friend who is really so much a part of you that when they're hurting you're hurting and most of their joys are yours simply because you want nothing but happiness for them. This book was far less about cancer and far less about some odd request to fulfill a best friend's dying wish and more about HOW who we are ia shaped by our choices and the people who we place stock in. That person who you view yourself through and the only person that really matters.

It'll break your heart this book. Don't let anyone tell you it's not going to. Be prepared to find yourself ugly crying. But don't shy away from it because of the pain that it may open in you. Hiding from that pain does no one any good. That pain is how we remember. How we honor. How we find ways to connect back to the world. Hug your best friend if you're close enough to do so. Call her. RIGHT NOW. Plan an unexpected trip to nowhere and watch The Notebook and cry and eat cheese fries.

Here's' a link to the book: http://www.amazon.com/You-Take-It-From-Here/dp/1451646232/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1342705604&sr=8-1&keywords=You+take+it+from+here

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Hi Pam! I was was checking a few of your posts and had a quick question about your blog. I was hoping you could email me back when you get the chance -emilywalsh688 (at) gmail.com- Thanks : )

Emmy