Find the Good: Unexpected Life Lessons from a Small-Town Obituary Writer
Heather Lende
Language: English
Pages: 176
ISBN: 1616201673
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Quirky and profound, individual and universal, Find the Good offers up short chapters that help us unlearn the habit--and it is a habit--of seeing only the negatives. Lende reminds us that we can choose to see any event--starting a new job or being laid off from an old one, getting married or getting divorced--as an opportunity to find the good. As she says, “We are all writing our own obituary every day by how we live. The best news is that there’s still time for additions and revisions before it goes to press.”
Ever since Algonquin published her first book, the New York Times bestseller If You Lived Here, I’d Know Your Name, Heather Lende has been praised for her storytelling talent and her plainspoken wisdom. The Los Angeles Times called her “part Annie Dillard, part Anne Lamott,” and that comparison has never been more apt as she gives us a fresh, positive perspective from which to view our relationships, our obligations, our priorities, our community, and our world.
An antidote to the cynicism and self-centeredness that we are bombarded with every day in the news, in our politics, and even at times in ourselves, Find the Good helps us rediscover what’s right with the world.
“Heather Lende’s small town is populated with big hearts--she finds them on the beach, walking her granddaughters, in the stories of ordinary peoples’ lives, and knits them into unforgettable tales. Find the Good is a treasure.” —Jo-Ann Mapson, author of Owen’s Daughter
“Find the Good is excellent company in unsteady times . . . Heather Lende is the kind of person you want to sit across the kitchen table from on a rainy afternoon with a bottomless cup of tea. When things go wrong, when things go right, her quiet, commonsense wisdom, self-examining frankness, and good-natured humor offer a chance to reset, renew, rebalance.” —Pam Houston, author of Contents May Have Shifted
“With gentle humor and empathy [Lende] introduces a number of people who provide examples of how to live well . . . [Find the Good] is simple yet profound.” —Booklist
“In this cynical world, Find the Good is a tonic, a literary wellspring, which will continue to run, and nurture, even in times of drought. What a brave and beautiful thing Heather Lende has made with this book.” —John Straley, Shamus Award winner and former writer laureate of Alaska
“Heather Lende is a terrific writer and terrific company: intimate, authentic, and as quirky as any of her subjects.” —Marilyn Johnson, author of The Dead Beat
did not even open her eyes, much less move toward me. I welcomed her raggedy purr as a sign that all was well with the household, and my life. Betty never became a normal eater. She refused wet cat food, or even fresh salmon leftovers, in favor of dry food her whole life. Chip fed her on the windowsill to keep the dogs out of her bowl. (Betty would never fight for anything.) Every morning Chip would fill Betty’s dish, then shake it so she could hear it was full, and she’d jump up and eat. If he
keeping little Lani safe, healthy, and content, the sun will shine on her mother and soon-to-be sister. We open Lani’s curtains each morning and note if it is fair or stormy, clear or foggy, if the tide is high or low. I tell her there is no such thing as bad weather, thanks to our rain gear and rubber boots. We listen for the roosters and Pearl’s jingling collar tags. We never watch cartoons. We stare at the drifting clouds, the waves, and the ants in the sand. We read stories. Lani won’t sleep
reverse of that silver lining is that making everything “just so” can be a hindrance to living your best life. The obituary I wrote where the highest praise anyone could offer about the woman was, “She kept her stove clean,” worried me. True, it was a huge black-and-nickel antique wood-burning cookstove, but still. At least she never read that. Not long after writing that obituary, I was invited to dinner at a new friend’s rental house, which was equipped with a rusting gas stove. We assembled
up the kids in a VW van, and drove across the country. When he was in his seventies, he’d stop by the café in town to collect the recycling and turn the chore into an opportunity to meet new folks or visit with old friends. (He volunteered to haul it, so his coffee was always free.) As Norm’s friend told me, “He was fun to be around. We all should be so lucky to have both kids still in town, and die in our own home. What more could you wish?” I want to be like Norm. And not just the part about
needed to be walked) and lived to be seventeen years old—the same seventeen years that Dickinson produced many of her most enduring poems. Her father gave her the puppy because he was concerned that she didn’t get out much. He knew that Carlo would be his daughter’s connection to the neighbors. I didn’t realize that a new dog would do the same for me. Our good old dog Forte, a large black flat-coated retriever whom we adopted at age four, came of age in a busy household with five children. His