Have I mentioned how much I love memoirs? ;)
First, a little tidbit of information I learned from my husband and this book (he told me this before I read it on one of the first few pages): Australian Aborigines slept with their dogs for warmth on cold nights, the coldest being a "three dog night".
I've read about women losing their husbands to death, but this woman lost her husband to brain damage. He was hit by a car, one night, and lost the front part of his brain, therefore losing any short term memory storage. He lives in a nursing home that cares for TBI patients and she visits him once or so a week. In this book, she comes to terms with life, who she is, what she wants, if it's selfish to not bring him home and care for him, herself (I'm with the decision she made, by the way), who her husband has become, and how to cope with the present, not paying any mind to the past or the future. She talks about guilt, healing, living, and being happy in spite of her circumstances. She finds simple pleasures in art, her friends, her husband, and yes, her dogs.
I love the way this woman writes - so honest and raw. I say raw, because she doesn't mince words, she doesn't go back over what came out on the paper and sugar-coat it. It's real. I feel like I was given a glimpse inside her soul, how she sees herself and probably would hope others see her. Her writing reminded me of how I want to be able to write, or how I maybe even do write, but only in places no one else can read. And maybe even how I sometimes write on my blogs. Either way, I felt connected to her because of how open and real she is in this book. I can't say enough how much I loved reading her life. I can't imagine having to go through something like she is going through. I'm glad I found this random book that I otherwise might never have noticed. A real story from a real person. Love it. :)