This is a wonderful memoir that took my breathe away. The title struck me when I saw it among the new books at my local library. It is one of these books that you won’t want to put down for a long time.
This memoir is a moving and witty memoir about aging family love, and the hunt for roots and belonging. The story begins as a trip from Canada to Ireland in search of her genealogical background and some documents. Being eight and in the early stages of Parkinson’s disease, Joe invites his daughter Alison to come along as his research assistant, which might have worked very well had she any interest in the genealogy. But she really wasn’t interested at all.
However, very quickly, the father-daughter pilgrimage becomes more comical than fruitful, more of a bittersweet adventure than a studious mission. Rather than rigorous genealogy, their explorations move into the realm of family and forgiveness, the primal search for identity and belonging, and questions about the extent to which we are shaped by the people who came before us.
Though continually bursting with humour, this book ultimately becomes a song of appreciation for the precious and limited time we have with our parents, the small moments we share, and the gifts of transcendence we might find there.
I just loved this book. I will be recommending it to all my friends, now that we are stuck in lock-down mode due to the Covid-19 virus.
There are so many GREAT Canadian authors. Its because of this fact that I will always read Canadian books.