Last August, some 40 hours before reporting to Mount Sinai Hospital for my surgery, I went to Lowe's and bought a power drill.
I am about to enter the sixth decade of my life – a decade my mother never lived to enjoy. During Lent, I remember her fully.
Tonight, I feel safe. In fact, I will be safe for the next six, even seven months (counting the post-season).
"Who's bringing breakfast tomorrow?" I asked. The tiny hesitation before her answer told me that my relief had been premature. I closed my eyes even before her words were out. "Uhm, Mama? I forgot to tell you..."
Never mind all of the National Book Award winner's literary qualities. The novel is as much just a fabulous, riveting romp of a read.