The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot

 

The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot

By Marianne Cronin

“Somewhere in the world are the people who once touched us, loved us, or ran from us—and in that, we endure. Visit the places we’ve been, and you might meet someone who brushed past us in a corridor, then forgot us before we were even gone. We’re captured in the edges of strangers’ photographs—talking, laughing, blurring into the background of a picture that now rests on a mantel in a room we’ve never seen. And in that too, we endure. But it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough to have been a fleeting fragment of the great expanse of existence. I want more. We want more. We want to be known. To have our stories remembered, our names spoken, our essence felt. Even after we're gone, we want the world to know who we were.”

That quote from the book really stayed with me…don’t you think it’s fascinating? It makes me wonder… do you ever struggle with the idea of death, or what might come after?

I spent the last thirty days of my dad’s life by his side. He was scared. I remember him looking at me and said, “Don’t forget me.”

I haven’t. Not for one single day.

I still talk to him...about my doctor’s appointments, about the little things. I think of all the questions I wish I’d asked him while he was still here.

About the book...seventeen-year-old Lenni knows she won’t be leaving the hospital alive. Living with a terminal illness, she clings fiercely to her identity and spark, fighting to stay whole in a body worn down by disease and drugs. Though confined within sterile walls, bound by hospital rules and indifferent staff (I’m looking at you, Jackie), Lenni is still very much alive…and determined to live.

She’s not alone. Lenni is surrounded by people drawn to her light, none more so than 83-year-old Margot, a fellow patient recovering from heart surgery, with more procedures ahead. The two first connect when Lenni helps Margot discreetly retrieve something from a recycling bin, orchestrating a distraction with mischievous charm. Soon after, Lenni finds a loophole into the art class “for eighty and up” just so she can keep spending time with her.

To mark the combined 100 years, they’ve spent on this earth, Lenni and Margot decide to paint the stories of their lives…stories of growing old and staying young, giving joy, receiving kindness, losing love, and finding that one person who means everything.

Despite its premise…a book about death and dying…this story radiates love, joy, and life. It’s a tribute to unexpected friendships, the kind we long for without knowing we’re missing them. It reminds us that in the end, what matters isn’t just what we do with life, but who we share it with.

Much of the narrative is through Margot’s eyes: her loving father, haunted by war; a marriage strained and broken by grief; a love unreciprocated; a soul-deep connection that endured three decades. Through Margot’s stories and paintings, Lenni gets to experience the full arc of a life she won’t get to live. In return, she helps Margot reckon with what’s behind her…and what still lies ahead, should she survive the next surgery.

As their canvases fill with color and memory, we see their lives in vivid detail. From Lenni, we learn about her first and only kiss, the heartbreak of an alcoholic mother, the father she pushes away. From Margot, we see a marriage undone after the death of a child, the woman named Meena who offered salvation, and Humphrey, who taught her to love the stars…a gift she later passes on to Lenni.

One unforgettable moment captures the essence of this bond: Margot and Lenni outside beneath the stars.  “I find it so peaceful,” Margot says softly. “Me too.”  Then, after a pause, “Do you know the stars we see most clearly are already dead?”  “Well, that’s depressing,” Lenni replies, pulling away.  Margot gently links her arm through Lenni’s. “No, it’s not depressing. It’s beautiful. They’ve been gone for who knows how long… but we can still see them. They live on.”

What’s extraordinary about The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot is how it turns what should be a story about dying into one about life. The humor, the quiet rebellion, the art class…it’s a reminder that even in the face of finality, we can create something lasting. Just like stars: already gone...but still lighting our nights.

Dad...I will carry your light forward…just like those stars…you live on.

 Doyle Winford Ramey 

 June 16, 1928 -- October 22, 2010

Biochemist, food enthusiast, wine maker, loved all things French, adored his grandchildren and embraced life with a deep curiosity and wonder. 

Remarkably Bright Creatures

 

Remarkably Bright Creatures

Shelby Van Pelt

Have you read this? I found it remarkably enjoyable…and the cover instantly drew me in. It’s one of those easy, compulsively readable page-turners you take to the beach or pick up between heavier reads.

If it’s not on your radar yet, the heart of the story lies with Tova Sullivan, a widow bearing the quiet weight of long-held grief, and Marcellus, a cantankerous yet wise Pacific octopus harboring his own secrets. Yes, an octopus. I was absolutely charmed by Marcellus: his cleverness, his perceptiveness, his unwavering curiosity. The bond he forms with Tova is quietly powerful and unexpectedly moving. Their shared story truly stole the show for me.

There’s another main character…a thirty-something wandering soul in search of his biological father…but I didn’t connect with his side of the narrative. His choices often felt more adolescent than adult, and his arc lacked the emotional resonance I found in Tova and Marcellus.

At its core, this is a love story…though not in the traditional sense. It’s a tale of lonely people who slowly build a small world of connection and support around each other.

Tova and Marcellus’s relationship is the one I’ll remember. They develop a sort of wordless understanding. Tova shares her past in fragments, while Marcellus, perceptive as he is, notices the weight she carries…and, in a quietly beautiful gesture, begins leaving her little gifts. That’s what won me over.

It reminded me of my cat, Ozzy, who brings me “stuffies” each night…sometimes even leaves them by the front door when I’m working late. It’s the sweetest ritual. He must spend all night ferrying them from the lanai to the foot of my bed. Each night, before I go to sleep, I gather them up and return them to the basket, and he follows me, probably thinking, “Seriously? All that effort?” But I cherish it. Every morning I tell him how much I love it. We’re moving soon, and I worry this magical little habit might fade.

This story…with its oddball premise, unpredictable turns, and tender charm…completely pulled me in. It left me smiling, reminded me that love and family can be found in the most unconventional ways, and that healing often comes not in sweeping gestures, but in small, quiet acts of kindness.

“As a general rule, I like holes. A hole at the top of my tank gives me freedom. But I do not like the hole in her heart… Tova’s heart. I will do everything I can to help her fill it.”

Stuffies from Ozzy

Demon Copperhead

 

Demon Copperhead 

By Barbara Kingsolver

We all know that some books entertain, others educate, and many inform...but the ones I love the most are those that transport you to another place, another era, another culture. Few stories linger long after the final page, but Demon Copperhead did just that for me.

I consider myself fortunate. Born in the early 1970s to a middle-class family that valued education, going to church on Sundays, a father who worked full-time, and a family who…quirks and all…looked after one another.  I didn’t always get what I wanted but I always had enough. Most importantly, we never questioned that we were loved.

This book is the exact opposite of my childhood.  It is bold and emotionally charged, this novel reimagines Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield in the heart of Appalachia. Told through the voice of Damon Fields, known as “Demon,” it follows his harrowing, heartfelt journey from a chaotic childhood into a turbulent coming-of-age shaped by poverty, addiction, and systemic neglect in rural Virginia.

Demon calls his childhood a “four-star shitshow”—a brutal mix of poverty, drugs, abuse, death, and despair. While reading it... I felt that despair. What fascinated me, though, was his relentless will to survive. Demon is heartbreakingly resilient. He’s sharp, funny even in the darkest moments, and his observations cut right to the bone.

If addiction is a triggering topic, this may not be the book for you. It lays out the opioid crisis and the abandonment of rural communities, while anchoring its power in deeply personal struggles—grief, foster care, the battle for self-worth. It’s unflinchingly harsh at times but dotted with startling beauty and grace. Like watching someone take blow after blow, only to be thrown a lifeline just before going under.

“I got up every day thinking the sun was out there shining, and it could just as well shine on me as any other human person.”

That line lands like a quiet triumph. It’s not just hope…it’s a declaration that light and belonging aren’t reserved for the chosen. It speaks to a gentle kind of resilience: the kind that whispers, I matter, even when the world fails to say it back. There’s something profoundly human in waking up and deciding the light might shine your way today.  Never give up.  It always seems that right when you are about to…the magic happens.

In the end…he reconnects with people who care about him and starts to find meaning in art and storytelling. The novel closes not with a neat resolution and Demon isn’t “fixed,” but he’s moving forward, learning to believe that he deserves light, love, and a life beyond survival.  

It’s not a fairy-tale ending, but it’s deeply human.  

All I can say is…Demon Copperhead lived one hell of a life.

 

Tom Lake

 

Tom Lake 

By Ann Patchett

I kept hearing about this book. Every Facebook book club I followed had people raving about it. Every book influencer on Instagram had read it—or, as I now know, listened to it.

Then, I stumbled upon it at Goodwill—of all places. $1.99! At first, I was excited. Then, I wasn’t. In the end, I was just relieved that’s all I spent. I’ve since passed it on with strict instructions: please, I don’t want it back!

I dove in, expecting something special, but…am I the only person who didn’t like it? When I asked around, I realized that most people hadn't actually read it—they had listened to it. That’s when I looked up the narrator.

Meryl Streep!

Ah, there it is. That must be what elevated the experience—you had to listen to it. Otherwise, I’m at a loss.

The book unfolds through Lara’s viewpoint, chronicling key moments from her past: her brief career as an actress, her childhood, her early steps into community theater, and the years that followed. We’re given access to her innermost thoughts—her personal reflections on the people, events, and decisions that shaped her life. As she ponders how much of her story to share with her family, we watch them react with awe, humor, and indignation. Through her revelations, her daughters start to see their mother not just as a parent, but as the young woman she once was—someone not so different from themselves.

Lara’s memories are woven between present-day events…life on the family’s cherry orchard, time with her husband, and moments with her daughters, who open up about their own dreams and aspirations. Thanks to COVID, all three daughters are back home, and to pass the time while picking cherries, they beg their mother to recount her romance with now-famous actor Peter Duke.

At its core, the novel explores the magic of summer stock theater, the innocence of young love, and…perhaps most importantly…what we choose to reveal when we tell our stories, especially to family. How well can we ever truly know our parents?

Lara’s story seems to be about coming to terms with the life she’s lived…the realization that the only life she ever truly wanted is the one she shares with them.

One passage stuck with me:

"There is no explaining this simple truth about life: you will forget much of it. The painful things you were certain you’d never be able to let go? Now you’re not entirely sure when they happened, while the thrilling parts, the heart-stopping joys, splintered and scattered and became something else. Memories are then replaced by different joys and larger sorrows, and unbelievably, those things get knocked aside as well."

Now I’m wondering…if I listened to Meryl’s version during my upcoming 12-hour road trip, would it change my opinion? Maybe I’ll give it a try and report back. Read, listen, or skip altogether? For now, I say pass on it.

This was one of Reese Witherspoon’s book club picks. I bet she makes a movie out of it. That might be worth watching.

 

THE FORGOTTEN BOOKSHOP IN PARIS

 

THE FORGOTTEN BOOKSHOP IN PARIS 

by Daisy Wood

How do you choose a book to read? I’m in a book club, so most of the time, I’m diving into someone else’s pick. I’ll admit it…I’m a sucker for a beautiful cover. Make it pretty, and I’ll hope the story is just as lovely. In this case… I love books, and I love Paris, so it felt like an easy win.

For our 40th birthday, Amanda surprised us with an "amuse bouche" of Europe…an approximately 48-hour whirlwind in each of the eight cities she planned, one of them being Paris. We packed so much into so little time: visiting the graves of Jim Morrison, Edith Piaf, and Oscar Wilde… floating along the Seine… lighting candles for our loved ones in Notre Dame… standing beneath the Arc de Triomphe… the Eiffel Tower… the Louvre. I even managed to convince Amanda to let us stop for ice cream at some fountain near the Louvre (the name escapes me). We ended that perfect Parisian night with steak and frites under a café's red-striped awning, sipping wine and recapping all we had seen. And yet…even with all of that…it wasn’t enough. I still long to wander the flea markets and get lost in the bookshops of my dreams. I must go back. Until then, this book was a perfect escape.

The Forgotten Bookshop in Paris unfolds in a dual timeline, set in both WWII-era Paris and the present day, told through the eyes of two women: Mathilde and Juliette.

The past storyline, 1941 to 1945, completely drew me in. Jacques and Mathilde Duval were newlyweds at the start of the war, full of love and life. She was spirited, impulsive, and brave…qualities that ultimately landed her in prison. Jacques, more reserved, ran a cozy little shop called La Page Cachée (“The Hidden Page”—how perfect is that?). As the war raged on, Jacques banned books and later joined the Resistance, sheltering not just fellow adults but eventually children, too. Can you imagine having that kind of courage? There’s a prayer he repeated throughout his life…even as he faced being arrested, “Father, I give myself up to You, do with me as You will. I am ready for everything, I accept everything.” That line gave me chills.

In the present day, Juliette finally arrives in France with her husband, hoping for a romantic escape. But the distance between them feels like too much, and she’s yearning for something more. When she stumbles across a little bookshop for sale…abandoned and waiting…it feels meant to be. As she uncovers its secrets, the boundary between past and present begins to dissolve.

The way the two timelines wove together surprised me...in a good way. Jacques, Mathilde, Nico, and Juliette are bound by more than chance. The threads connecting them brought a satisfying depth to the story.

“I’m thinking of calling it The Forgotten Bookshop. What do you think?”  “Very poetic.” Arnaud raised his glass. “We should be breaking out the Champagne.”  “I’d like people to feel as though they’ve found a place off the beaten path, somewhere only the locals know,” Juliette said. “I want this shop to become part of the community…a book club, poetry readings, writers dropping by.”

Honestly? That’s exactly the kind of place I’ll be seeking the next time I return to Paris.

As Jacques said, “Chéri, death is coming for all of us, sooner or later. It’s how we live that matters.”

And if living means books, beauty, and a little bit of Paris magic…I’m all in.

 

This Tender Land

 

This Tender Land 

By William Kent Kruger

I’ve had some incredible jobs in my life, but one of my favorites was being a Backroads Trip Leader. I guided people through breathtaking landscapes—Yellowstone National Park, Glacier National Park, Napa, just to name a few. We camped, cooked, hiked, biked, and gathered around campfires, sharing stories and embracing the land. I loved every moment of it. And I miss it.

When I lived in Park City, Utah, Vanessa and her husband generously welcomed me on their weekend kayaking and camping trips. We explored Wyoming, Idaho, California, Utah, and Colorado…so much of the West. It wasn’t glamorous, but they had everything dialed in. We camped, skipped showers, and simply lived in the moment. It was a blast.

In his author’s notes, Mr. Krueger states: "The river voyage upon which Odie O’Banion and his fellow Vagabonds embark in the summer of 1932 is a mythic journey. The reality of the Great Depression landscape that serves as its backdrop, however, was etched into the memory of many." The Great Depression was devastating for almost everyone, but it was particularly harsh on families.

This Tender Land is a gripping story of four orphaned children traveling along the Mississippi River, searching for belonging and identity while navigating hardships and discovering the true meaning of family. Their journey is dangerous enough on its own…but to make things even more intense, they’re being hunted for a perceived crime committed during their escape.

One of my favorite lines from Odie: "With every turn of the river since I’d left Lincoln School, the world had become broader, its mysteries more complex, its possibilities infinite."

• The world has become broader…that’s what travel and exploration do. They expand our minds and souls, opening us up to new perspectives.
• Its mysteries more complex…discovery is intricate, isn’t it?
• Its possibilities infinite…life is full of possibilities if we dare to dream and pursue them.

The book masterfully blends thrilling adventure with deeper themes like the loss of family, the pain of abandonment, and the ugly realities of systemic injustice. It also explores the complexities of growing up and growing apart. Although the four embark on the journey together, it becomes clear along the way that each is on their own personal voyage…seeing the broader world, unraveling mysteries, and discovering infinite possibilities.

One passage that resonated, "We risked a fire that night and sat together, talking quietly around the flames, as we had on many nights since we’d taken to the rivers. It began to feel to me as if what had been broken was coming together again, but I knew it would never be exactly the same. With every turn of the river, we were changing, becoming different people, and for the first time I understood that the journey we were on wasn’t just about getting to Saint Louis."

Ultimately, the book is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. It’s a powerful exploration of identity, the meaning of home, and the pursuit of dreams…transforming a perilous adventure into a deeply moving reflection on what it means to truly live.

 

 

The Language of Flowers

 

The Language of Flowers 

By Vanessa Diffenbaugh

I’ve always known that names carry meaning—but flowers? That was new to me.

Take my name, Melissa, for example:

• In Latin America, it’s associated with "honeybee," symbolizing sweetness and industriousness.
• In Italian culture, it’s linked to "beautiful flower" or "sweet nectar," evoking delicate beauty and grace.

Right away, this book sparked my curiosity about the meaning behind flowers and how deeply healing they can be.

Do you have a favorite flower? Do you know its meaning?

I have several, but I've always loved sunflowers. Their meaning—unwavering faith, positivity, happiness, and optimism—perfectly describes my mother.

Gerbera daisies hold a special place in my heart, too. An old flame, Patrick, used to bring me one in a small glass Pellegrino bottle to my office every week. Their meaning? Innocence, purity, and cheerfulness. Sweet, right?

Then there are peonies—symbols of happiness, romance, bashfulness, a happy marriage, honor, prosperity, good fortune, and wealth. I might need to start buying them in bulk!

One of my favorite parts of this book—besides the fact that it takes place in San Francisco (my favorite place on earth)—is the "Victoria's Dictionary of Flowers" in the back. It inspired a new goal: learning the language of flowers.

Where do you seek inspiration? It’s why I love reading, you never know what you’ll discover.

This story unfolds in San Francisco, where I was lucky enough to live for almost a decade.

One of my biggest questions throughout the book was: Why was Victoria tolerated? Overall, she’s hard to like—angry, spiteful, bitter, uncommunicative… a total misfit. She’s completely lost, yet somehow, people show her so much grace. In hindsight, it’s refreshing to see people show up for others, offering second and even third chances.

Victoria was bounced from foster home to foster home, leaving her fragmented, untrusting, jobless, and homeless. The only thing she cares about…flowers and their meanings.

When she goes to live with Elizabeth, she learns the language of flowers, what each one represents. Later, Victoria becomes a florist, but not just any florist. She doesn’t create arrangements just for beauty—she crafts bouquets with purpose. Her customers turn to her to mend relationships, find love, secure happiness, and reconnect with their children.

A line from the book stuck with me: "Anyone can grow into something beautiful."

So, let’s grow—who knew flowers had so much to say? I’m ready to listen, to learn, to bloom.

Also… why isn’t her name Daisy, Lily, Rose, or even Buttercup? Maybe I’ve been reading too many of those cheesy-easy books. Ha!

All the Colors of the Dark

 

All the Colors of the Dark 

By Chris Whitaker

I’ve been reading a lot...however, clearly not writing about it.  I’ve read some best sellers, some random books from authors I like, some Goodwill finds that have a pretty cover, some self-help and some cheesy-easy reads to just turn some pages…. just to keep reading. 

I know this is supposed to be a book review…and I’ll get to it…however, I’ll start this by telling you there is a line in the book that has stuck with me and in a way…changed me. 

He did not know darkness could be so beautiful…

I woke up in the middle of the night about three months ago.  In pure darkness…lying in bed…everything was quiet and still.  I didn’t feel scared, but I felt profoundly sad.  I felt angry at myself for how I had been living…or not living.  Accepting things, I didn’t want to accept any longer. 

I thought about my mom. 

My mom is very religious and prays a lot.  I’ve always been curious about her strong faith but had never asked.  I found out she has a list of names of people she prays for every single day.  It is part of her morning routine.  I called her a month or so before this late-night awakening and I said, mom, what do you pray for?  Is it the same prayer every time?  May I give you something specific to pray for me about? 

She gave me a very long answer.

Ultimately, she said I could ask her to pray for something specific but that she prayed every day that I would find a faith like she has.  She hopes that I will turn over my worries and walk toward faith with a profound sense of purpose and know that I am capable and strong. 

Melissa, put your trust in the Lord. 

I was lying there thinking of her and that conversation.  I got out of bed, and I literally got on my knees with my hands propped up on my bed and prayed like I did when I was a little girl. 

My prayer was kind of simple…I thought.  That I would open my mind and heart for a change.  I prayed about not really knowing what I wanted or what to dream for except I wanted change. 

One day…about a month after that prayer…I got an opportunity that came out of the blue.  It all happened quickly.  In a nutshell, I said yes to relocating and starting something new.  Was it the prayer that moved me towards this?  I don’t know…we can all believe what we want.  I didn’t think that the sleepless dark night I prayed…would turn into something so beautiful. 

What about All the Colors of the Dark?  How was his interpretation of the darkness he experienced so beautiful? 

This book is 608 pages…I don’t shy away from these long reads but have never turned the last page and felt it needed to be that long.   Overall, it is more of a character study than plot driven.  It’s about connection, the ties that bind us to our families, our friends, our past…a missing-person crime novel but also a love story, a coming-of-age tale and a meditation on the nature of memory and loss.

A quick synopsis…boy (Patch) saves girl (Misty) from a serial killer. Boy is caught and during his capture, cared for in the dark by a mysterious girl (Grace) until his best friend (Saint) saves him. Misty becomes his girlfriend although he doesn’t really love her and is obsessed with Grace. Saint loves him…has always loved him and becomes a cop so that she can look for Grace and the serial killer.

There…I’ve saved you from 607 pages.

No, seriously, what follows is 30 years of searching, discovering, hoping, praying, guilt, love, anger, despair, and just living.

A story about fate. It's also a story about this beautiful and heartbreaking thing called life.  I’ve always wondered why people feel ordinary…or that they feel like they live an ordinary life.  I’m not so sure ordinary isn’t really your own version of extraordinary.

At times, this was a dark and gritty look at how trauma shapes lives, how hope endures, how friendship changes, how love remains present, and how the search for the truth often leads the seeker down dark paths.

We could also talk about how the ripple effects of trauma and the various ways people cope with loss and fear. Patch’s evolution from a bullied kid to a celebrated artist underscores the theme of transformation, while Saint’s law enforcement career highlights the moral complexities of seeking justice and love.

Some lives move forward; others remain rooted. A tragic event that cuts deep and fractures relationships. A tragedy that becomes all-consuming as a means of survival…for decades.

Finally…there is Grace…the kidnapped girl who keeps Patch alive in confinement and then seems to have disappeared upon his rescue that I can't even be sure she was ever real….

Perhaps, she was how his darkness could be so beautiful?