Fan Letter to Author Elizabeth Berg

Dear Elizabeth,

        I have been reading and loving your books ever since my sister introduced me to "Range of Motion" several years ago. Recently, I realized that I hadn't yet read everything you had written as I was in the library and found several of your books that I had not seen before. I was attracted by the title "The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted" so I picked that one up first but then I discovered the Katie Nash series. I've always loved series of books that follow a particular character, so I was excited to start the story from the beginning.

        This story touched me deeply (as all your writing does). I think it's the way that you describe ordinary life in a way that captures the essence of my emotions. There were so many passages in this story that just made me feel--wow, that's so true, that's so right, that's such a perfect way to describe how that felt when it happened to me, I didn't realize that other people experienced this! It made me feel connected and it made me want to share your words.

        I felt prompted to write to you to let you know that I am so grateful to be able to share these books with a dear, sweet friend who is fighting for her life in the hospital. It all started just 4 months ago when she was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. She had a mastectomy within a week and was going to start chemotherapy. She was able to enjoy a little vacation by the beach (her favorite place) in December and the day after Christmas she had her first chemo treatment.

        I don't fully understand the course of events that took place between that day and one week later when she was admitted to the hospital but things have gotten worse for her at every turn. The breast cancer seems to have taken a back seat to many other complications that have been visited upon this poor dear girl. She has been in the ICU for almost 3 months except for about 9 days when she was on full life support in the CCU and a couple of days here and there when they thought she was doing better and had her in a regular room.

        I've recently had the privilege of being allowed to visit her. She has literally hundreds of friends who want to see her but she is just too physically weak to have so many visitors. When I took a meal to her husband and son, I asked him if he thought that she would enjoy it if I read to her. I thought it would be something relaxing to do so that she didn't feel like she had to talk to me if she wasn't up to it. But it was a way that I could be there for her. He said he thought it was a good idea--that it was a different kind of stimulation that she needed. He told me he would put me on the list to get in to see her.

        The first time I went, I wasn't sure if they would let me in, but her husband had paved the way, not only with the hospital staff but with her mom, who has been with her almost every day that she's been there. I was welcomed warmly by her mom and got a wonderful smile from my friend who, although she is having difficulty communicating, makes her emotions pretty clear on her face. I can't tell you how good that made me feel.

        My friend is such a caring person that she didn't want me to get started reading right away but by means of writing out a couple of questions (she can't talk because of a tube in her throat--although she tries) wanted me to catch her up on how my kids were doing and changes that were happening in our workplace. So after she was satisfied with my updates, I settled in to read.

        Her mom asked if it was okay for her to stay while I read and I said "of course." It's very hard for my friend to keep her eyes open and it frequently looks like she is asleep but her mom kept assuring me that she was listening. Once in a while I would pause, and my friend's eyes would open as if to say, don't stop. It encouraged me to continue because, although faint, her smile was still there.

        As I have visited over subsequent days, both my friend and her mom have been drawn into this story and I just have to give you my deepest thanks for writing it. I look forward to the time I get to spend with them and it gives me such a feeling of joy to be able to do even so small a thing, but something at least, to be there in their time of need.

        My friend is a dear, precious, caring, sweet soul that does not deserve to suffer in this way. Not that anyone does, mind you, but it's hard to understand how or why this could happen to a person that is loved by soooo many. . . and for good reason.

        Anyway, I thought you would like to know that the beautiful words you have written are helping us escape from some very dire circumstances for a few moments every day (or at least as often as I can get in.)

        And after that, we watch Ellen.

                            My sincerest thanks, Rita Zaretsky

Continued musings on faith. . .

Part 2                                                   March 8, 2015

Dear Maureen,

To continue my response to your letter of March 1st . . .

So I gave you a little history of my religious experience. I have a rather hard time discussing religion with anyone because I don't really know what I believe. (Even that is hard for me to admit. I feel like I should have a handle on SOMETHING I believe.) Sometimes I really don't think there is a God at all or anything beyond the grave. That we are here on this earth for a short time and the only thing that lives on after we're gone is our memory in the hearts of those who love us unless we do something noteworthy enough to be remembered by others.

But then there are other times when I long to believe that there is a God who cares about me and those that I love. It seems to me that people who have faith that God is involved with their life can point to much evidence that this is true. (And I'm talking about convincing evidence.) I guess I even believed it was true in my own life when I was trying to "walk the walk" of faith.

I guess I really can't completely abandon a belief that there is a God. The theory of evolution, though possibly plausible in some instances, does not seem to account for the second law of thermo-dynamics (I think I learned about that in a Bible study) which postulates that physical things tend to deteriorate rather than improve over time. I would say that my experience bears witness to that. I don't think something as complex as the myriad forms of life on earth could have developed out of nothing. That somehow, life evolved from slime. I find the idea of a creator to be more acceptable than any other theory or explanation. So I guess I can say I do believe that God is the creator. And that God is love. So, yes, God brought me Vladi.

I see much value in trying to live the way you believe that God wants you to live. But I've always had a problem with saying that my faith (when I had one) is "the only true" faith or the only path to God. And I suppose that is where the trouble lies. There are SO MANY different ways to believe in God. And I have a few Christian friends whom I respect very much that believe that if someone doesn't believe the way they do they are going to hell. I hesitate to tell them that if they're right, I must be going there.

Is there a heaven and hell?

I suppose that I want to believe there is. But I want to believe, too, that everyone I love or loved is going or has gone to heaven and that the only people that deserve to go to hell are . . . well, evil people. But then the question is, who decides what's evil and where do the lines get drawn?

Too many questions. And I have not found satisfying answers in any religious tradition.

I like to think about a life after death that allows us to be with people that we've lost over the years. I'd especially like to meet my mother. I'd like my kids to be able to talk to their dad in a place where he doesn't have to fight the demons of his mental illness any longer. I want to see my nephew again, and my friend Denise and I can think of so many others that have preceded me in death. I know my idea of heaven is unrealistic. I'm sure there is no religious tradition that teaches the heaven I've described. So it's easier for me to push it to the back of my mind and not deal with it.

I keep straying from talking about the things you said in your letter. I like so much of the things that you say. And from other posts that you've shared,  I understand that you don't buy in to all the things that the Catholic church teaches. I really like Pope Francis. He embodies the beliefs that I share.

You say that the message is Love. I agree. The philosophy, the disagreement, the nuance of what we believe is fluid. If we could all just talk to each other and not polarize our opinions, we might find that we all have more in common than we realize. Maureen, I respect you more than you probably know. I want to know you better. I so hope that we get a chance very soon to sit down and talk together. You have helped me to move past some of my anger and pain that I've held on to from the past. You've already helped me to remember good things that I'd forgotten. I look forward to exploring more. . .