Review of: "Walking Through Twilight" by Douglas Groothuis.

As a reviewer of books it is a privilege to write reviews. This one is special. As I read this book I realized I was peeking into private personal space. (mine as well as the author’s) As Dr. Groothuis thinks deeply about his experience and recounts them to us vulnerable and honest. Sort of like reading someone else's mail. An older brother helping us clean up the mess we made.

I am barely acquainted with the author, just a face in the crowd. But for you dear reader I offer as my review this open letter so that you may get a glimmer of the same experience I had reading this work of faith.

Dear Dr. G,

I just finished your book, “Walking Through Twilight: A Wife's Illness--A Philosopher's Lament”. I have to tell you, while reading your book, I felt like I was walking in your shadow. Although a shadow it was reflective. Dark yet strangely shimmering. Like when I put my John Coletrane vinyl on my turntable and it reflects the light coming in the window and makes it dance on the ceiling as I listen to “A Love Supreme”.

The reflections off your shadow leave a trail to follow. You have become a trailblazer and a guide. It’s not that I have never had a dark night of the soul, it’s that I have just barely learned to navigate them. Yet you are encouraging me not to just navigate them but to navigate them well. I suppose it is your gift to put into words what others can only sense. Thank you.

I need to tell you what touched me most. You mentioned the eeriness of lament and how opaque our situations can be. This description helps, it orients me to normal, or at least the normal of the lament. Your reflections on Psalm 90 was like a flash of lightning at night, illuminating the surroundings for just a split second. As it did I could see my lament wrapped up inside God’s bigger world. It’s as if “My God, my God why have you forsaken me” is surrounded in the greater “the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases”.

Thank you for this. I have already given a copy to a good friend and companion in lament. As our generation of baby boomers grow older lament will be more and more our new normal. I am grateful for this thoughtful and considerate guide.

Yours in lament,

rl

Let me call you Sweetheart . . .

I always seem to think that I've been married a long time until I am in the presence of my elders. I have a friend who has been married now for almost 6 decades. He tells me that he has been with his wife (who he always refers to as sweetheart) for longer than he's been away from her. I think I can say the same thing. . . but they've been married longer than I've been alive.

Anyway my friend was sick in the hospital, really sick. He has had several serious conditions any one of which would make me cry with despair. Any one of which could kill him. As he laid there he had to tell me what was really bothering him. "Do you want to know what is the worst thing about all this," he said. I expected to hear him tell me how bad the hospital food was. Instead he grabbed my hand and said "The worst thing about all of this is I can't be with my sweetheart. There were tears in his eyes.

His habit you see was to go to the nursing home where his wife lived and feed her, since she couldn't feed herself. Alzheimer's had taken her mind some time ago. As I stood there looking at my friend I felt an awe, a reverence. Something that is more reserved for things that are holy.

My mind raced. I thought what a perfect thing. At his time of life to be so lost in love for his sweetheart that his physical condition was only a mild distraction compared to the pain of being away from his sweetheart.

My dear friend, I want you to know how much you taught me that day. You have encouraged my resolve so that when I get to the bend in the road where you are now I too will care for naught but my sweetheart. Thank you for taking the time to shake my hand. It was an honor indeed.