Find the Good: Unexpected Life Lessons From a Small-Town Obituary Writer
Written and Narrated By: Heather Lende
Length: 2 hrs and 43 mins
No astounding deep wisdom, just a call to live with joy
One other reviewer was deeply disappointed in Find the Good, thinking that it was going to be a book with profound wisdom by those dying, or by surviving loved ones who found peace and comfort from some extraordinary insight that only Death can bring.
Aww, too bad! Nope. Rather, I think, the book is written by a plain-speaking woman who thinks a lot, and who feels even more (And who narrates her own words with only a couple of glitches here and there). There’s nothing proFOUND, but you do come away from listening to with a bit of lightness in your heart.
I used to think about death all the time, and I mean ALL the time. So my first listen of this book brought a great measure of relief because instead of wallowing in the utter unfairness of death (I mean, who set it up to where we WILL die, but we don’t know WHEN, and we don’t know HOW?!? Truly diabolical, right?), author Heather Lende calls us to die with our lives still under construction. Never pause as you’re trundling along; just live, live, live.
Sprinkled throughout all this positivity, this challenge to Find The Good, if you will, rather than picking at what’s wrong, what’s horrible, what’s devastating, are stories which are, quite simply, very moving. Okay, okay, so there IS some Wisdom to be found as Lende brings her experiences as a small-town obituary writer (Where you only THINK you know all about the person who died, but she finds what really made him/her special), and her experiences as a mother, grandmother, owner of dog(s) and a cat, singer in the town choir, purchaser of life vests for town fishermen, and oh yeah—she’s a good friend also.
There are random, tragic deaths, and there are deaths seen coming from a mile away; it doesn’t matter, she still feels each of them deeply. It’s her job to sit with the bereaved and to ask questions that make them smile as they think of the wonderful person their lost loved one was. And she’s come up with a few Truths. Every now and again she’ll say something like: Tell someone they’ll be missed, and she’ll follow it with the story of a man who was big into conspiracy theories, yes, kinda a crackpot, but who was kind and always made the time to say hello. He always felt that nobody would come to his funeral, but the whole town did. And he never knew he meant that much.
There’s the tenderness of a fisherman who didn’t mend his nets too terribly well, all because he wanted SOME fish to have another chance at life. There’s the sorrow of the mother who lost her son, a young man, and who was so distraught she could only respond to questions by slipping notes/answers underneath the door. There’s the woman who commissioned her own obit, knowing she was past her expiration date, knowing she did NOT want to be seen as a victim, knowing she wanted to be remembered as funny, and strong, and whole. There’s the story of Betty, the Lende family’s brain-damaged cat. Heather Lende’s a dog person, but she cried when Betty died a peaceful death after a long and gentle life, seeing the children go from diaper-wearing toddlers all the way to corsage-sporting prom-goers.
And to me, the story that truly made me cry (Altho’ the story about Betty did have me sniffling) was where Lende says she’s had it with memorial services; she’s done; she writes the obituaries for cripes sake, and isn’t that enough? So she stands there, willfully ignoring all that’s being said about a fantastic woman who died too soon, willfully ignoring the smiling photos of her, adamant that she’ll not go to another one.
But the video of the woman working with a mute little girl, teaching her to form sounds, to communicate to loving parents absolutely undoes her. Lende begins sobbing because the woman made a difference in this life, and it WAS an honor to know her, and isn’t connection the only thing that matters? The music gets to her; the mourners, who are actually celebrants, get to her, she wants to sing, and sing some more.
THAT’S Life! THAT’S what I want!
We all know it; we’ve heard it before: Death/pain is the price of Love. But Lende shows that collecting “Debts” from loving and living can be pretty gosh-darned wonderful…
As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.