What We're Reading at Agape

The Agape Book Club, made up of  volunteers and staff, chooses books (and sometimes films) that lend perspective on death and dying (which, when you get down to it, is really life and living). 

This past month's book, "The Bright Hour," was introduced to the group by volunteer Kaelin, who wrote: Nina Riggs wrote this book about her journey with terminal cancer at the tender age of 37. At the same time her mother was being treated for terminal cancer.  (That mother/daughter paralleling was a first for me.  Another lesson in how bad things can get.) Shortly after Nina had a mastectomy, she wrote the following. The emphases are all hers.   

We have called in hospice for my mom.  It's strange, because hospice is one of those words that when you say it, people's faces fall.  It is a word that evokes last breaths and hushed voices.  But the more I think about it, the more I'm struck by what a beautiful word it is -- hospice.  It is hushed, especially at the end.  But it's comfortable and competent sounding too.  A French word with Latin roots -- very close to hospital but with so much more serenity due to those S sounds.  

Hospice used to mean a rest house for travelers--for pilgrims. And is there anything more welcome to a weary pilgrim than rest? A great read from Riggs (who is, by the way, a descendent of Ralph Waldo Emerson) with robust discussion among the group. For any who are interested, here are the book club discussion questions: 

1. Nina Riggs has written a remarkable memoir—about facing down a deadly disease—and done so with courage and even, at times, humor. Find passages that strike you as particularly brave or inspirational or witty or sad. What passages stand out to you in terms of their sheer emotional power?
2. Riggs poses a question we all grapple with, but for her its answer was most urgent: what makes a meaningful life, particularly when that life is to be cut short? How does Riggs answer that question? How would you answer it?  Has this book impacted how you might answer this?
3. After her surgery, Riggs' doctor dissuaded her from reconstructive surgery—"That's a survivor issue. We're not there yet." Was that a proper response on the doctor's part? How might you have felt had you received the answer: angry, fearful, or grateful for the honesty? 
4. Riggs wrote: "There are so many things that are worse than death: old grudges, a lack of self-awareness, severe constipation, no sense of humor, the grimace on your husband's face as he empties your surgical drain into the measuring cup." Do you agree that there are things worse than death? If so, what would you add to that list?
5. The book's title comes from Ralph Waldo Emerson: "That is morning; to cease for a bright hour to be a prisoner of this sickly body, and to become as large as the World."  What does the passage mean and what is its significance to the memoir?
6. Talk about how the death of Riggs' mother, Jan, affected her? Consider how painful it must have been for her mother to know she couldn't be there for Nina when she needed her.