The Geography of Memory Part 1 of 3

The Geography of Memory:

a review

Walker, Jeanne Murray (2013)
The Geography of Memory
New York: Center Street

© Imelda Maurer, cdp  July 10, 2014

Jeanne is a writer, a professor, a lover of poetry and literature and also a wife, mother, daughter, and sister. All of these roles/competencies find their way into her writing. Using the concept of metaphor as a recurring theme, Jeanne pulls together memories of her childhood and the enduring bonds between her and her mother.

For those looking for more about caring for a parent with Alzheimer’s, or the experience of being with a parent with dementia, that comes mostly in the last 100 (of 360) pages. Jeanne and her sister, Julie, are devoted and caring daughters; their love and faithfulness to their mother is reflected in the many ways they were present to support and assist their mother.

There were several times as I neared the end of this book that I identified closely with Jeanne’s reflections about her mother’s aging, her increasing frailty and finally her living with dementia. Those were emotions I too felt seeing my mother in her later years. I remember feeling rage that my mother would suffer the ravages of illness and memory loss and what I considered unnecessary losses to her personhood. (Now I know she didn’t lose her personhood! Jeanne expresses her own realization of that truth very well.)

The temptation to include some of my choice quotations from the book is strong. I resist so that each reader might savor firsthand those ‘favorite places’ for herself/himself. However, I am compelled to include this one quote. Walker speaks of a family gathering about a year and a half after her mother’s death.

“We will keep gathering. This is what we have now: the wind, the waning sunlight, the stars and flowers, our mother, the journey we took together during her last decade, the disciplines we learned, the gifts our long pilgrimage together brought us. And here on earth, for a while, we have each other.” (Page 360)

And for a while we have each other.