I almost didn't borrow Gayle Forman's After Life. When, scanning it, I read that Amber biked home only to have her mother go into hysterics because she actually died seven years ago--hit by a car while riding the bike--it seemed a little too R. L. Stine like.
But then I did take it out and am glad I did.
Amber is understandably perplexed. Her previously madly in love parents are separated. Her weird little sister has grown up. Her boyfriend with a promising future is bar tending in a dive. People are not as she remembers them.
Who was she in her time on Earth? And why has she been able to come back?
The narrative, told in multiple voices across a wide time span, builds a picture of the impact Amber's life had on family members, friends, and even people she barely knew.
In her After Word Forman reminds us that in many cultures the beloved dead have a continued presence in the lives of the living. She speaks of a love that "has the power to bring comfort and joy not yoked to a physical presence. Somewhere in there is a suggestion for how we might might look to other traditions to better marry life and its inevitable end together."
On a purrrsonal note, I have no clue if I have a living sister. Harriet is severely brain damaged. She is/was needlessly afraid that I'd try to be the boss of her. The last I heard she was in a group home a thousand miles away. For years we've kept in touch by email. That's the only way she wants/wanted me to get in touch. OnIy I haven't heard from her since last year's hurricane season. I'm respecting her boundaries. But it's really weird. Now and then I google her name and obituary. So far nothing. I guess I can try to email her again tonight.
Jules Hathaway
Sent from my U.S.Cellular© Smartphone
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