Madeleine L'Engle, as always, has an extraordinary impact on me. Her works make me have an intense desire to write continuously. She delves into the human existence with such profound depth and remarkable insight that it truly inspires me and makes me feel more vividly alive.

In this particular book, the essence of living is vividly embodied through lament. Her mother has unfortunately lost touch with reality and is on the verge of dying. This situation is both poignant and thought-provoking. It is outrageously honest, moving, and yet, there is also a glimmer of happiness within it.

And within the pages of this book lies this powerful statement: "The refusal to love is the only unbearable thing." This simple yet profound sentence encapsulates the core message of the book and makes us reflect on the importance of love in our lives. It reminds us that without love, life can seem empty and meaningless. Madeleine L'Engle's words continue to touch our hearts and souls, making us strive to live a more fulfilling and meaningful life.

I loved this!!

I really love Madeleine L’Engle’s writing the more I read it. Her words have a unique charm that draws me in and makes me feel deeply connected to her stories.

This particular piece reminded me so much of my grandmother who died of Alzheimer’s. She was such a dear and precious person in my life. She passed away 12 years ago, but the pain of losing her still lingers at times.

Listening to Madeleine process her own experience of losing a loved one through her writing has been so therapeutic for me. It has helped me to come to terms with my own grief and to understand that it is a natural and necessary part of the healing process.

I am so grateful for Madeleine L’Engle’s beautiful writing and for the way it has touched my heart and soul. It is truly a gift that I will cherish always.

I LOVED the first Crosswicks Journal (Circle of Quiet).

In this second journal, Madeleine shares the last summer she spent caring for her dying mother.

The writing is truly beautiful. However, the topic did not have the same profound impact on me as the first journal did.

Nevertheless, there were some wonderful and thought-provoking passages.

For instance, "Perfectionism is imprisoning. As long as I demand it, in myself or anybody else, I am not free and all my life I've believed that freedom is important, that, despite all our misuse and abuse of it, freedom is what makes us a little lower than the angels."

And also, "I must never lose sight of those other deaths which precede the final, physical death, the deaths over which we have some freedom; the death of self-will, self-indulgence, self-deception, all those self-devices which, instead of making us more fully alive, make us less."

These passages make one stop and reflect on the deeper meanings of life and freedom.

I read this during June and July 2013, when my grandmother was on the verge of dying.

The impact her sudden illness and subsequent death had on our family was truly shocking and brutally painful. It was a time of great turmoil and heartache.

However, this book by L'Engle proved to be an absolute blessing. Through her vivid and poignant description of her own mother's decline at the end of life, I was able to gain some perspective.

I realized that some of what we were experiencing was simply a natural part of the process of letting go.

The book is beautifully written, with a grace and elegance that is truly captivating. It is not overly sentimental, which I appreciated. It didn't try to tug at my heartstrings in a manipulative way.

Instead, it presented a realistic and honest portrayal of the end-of-life journey. It was a perfect read for me during that difficult summer.

I'm certain that I will re-read it in the future, as I know it will continue to offer me comfort and wisdom.

The second installment in a series of journal style books penned by Madeleine L'Engle, this particular one delves into the profound theme of the death of her mother. I discovered it to be extremely insightful.

It holds a special significance for me, especially as I have been ruminating more about my Dad lately. June 9 marked the 3rd anniversary of his passing. There is one paragraph that truly struck a chord within me.

It states that our memories are, at best, so restricted and finite. It is simply impossible for us to envision an unrestricted, infinite memory, which is the memory of God. This is something that I yearn to believe in. That not a single atom of creation is ever overlooked by Him. Everything always exists, is cared for, is developing, and is loved.

This idea gives me a sense of comfort and hope, especially during these times when I am missing my Dad. It makes me feel that even though my memories of him may be limited, there is a greater power that remembers and loves him infinitely.

Madeleine L'Engle's words have truly touched my heart and made me think deeply about the nature of memory and the love of God.

This was not my favorite of the Crosswick Journals.

There were indeed some beautiful and thoughtful insights within its pages. The author's profound reflections on various aspects of life and the human condition were truly captivating.

However, a significant portion of the book was dedicated to family history. While family is an important part of our lives, this particular account of the author's family history did not hold the same level of interest for me.

Perhaps it was because I could not directly relate to the specific events and individuals described. Or maybe it was simply that my own interests lie elsewhere.

Nonetheless, I still appreciate the overall value of the Crosswick Journals. It is a collection of works that offers a unique perspective on life and provides readers with much to think about.

Even though this particular volume was not my favorite, I am still eager to explore the other installments in the series and see what other treasures they may hold.

This is Book 2 of the Crosswicks Journals.

While I didn't have quite the same level of affection for it as I did for the first one, it is still a rather beautiful work.

It contains numerous powerful and exquisitely written observations about life.

The book chronicles the summer when her mother's condition was declining.

As such, it is a difficult and often heart-wrenching account of senility, aging, and death.

However, it also manages to celebrate life and the diverse ways in which we know, and sometimes don't know, our own families.

It delves deep into the complex emotions and experiences that come with watching a loved one's health deteriorate, while also highlighting the beauty and significance of the family bonds that persist through it all.

Overall, despite its heavy subject matter, it offers a profound and thought-provoking exploration of the human experience.

This book is truly a remarkable combination of two distinct yet intertwined narratives.

One-third of the book delves deep into the author's relationship with her mother during a fateful summer when her mother rapidly succumbs to dementia. It is a raw and emotional exploration as the author grapples with a complex web of emotions - anger, grief, guilt, hopes, and love - within the context of her evolving relationship with her mother. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say her relationship with this new person who is no longer the mother she once knew. This section is incredibly poignant and powerful, pulling at the heartstrings of the reader and making them empathize with the author's struggle.

The other part of the book is a captivating recount of family stories that the author knew through her mother. It includes tales from her mother's life and even from before she was born, as well as those of her extended family. These stories are a window into the family's legacy, seen through the lens of her mother's memories. While this section is still interesting and connected to the author's processing, it doesn't quite have the same level of compelling force as the first part. Nevertheless, it adds depth and richness to the overall narrative, making this book a must-read for anyone interested in family relationships and the impact of dementia.

Another amazing book by L'Engle that centers on the theme of death is truly a remarkable piece of work.

As her mother is on the verge of dying, she delves into the stories not only of her mother but also of her relatives.

While doing so, she reflects profoundly on what death means.

It's not necessarily in a spiritual sense alone, but rather in an overall context.

Her books have this incredible ability to always make me think deeply about various things.

And death is indeed one of those things that we should ponder with much more care than we typically do nowadays.

We often take it for granted or shy away from confronting it.

But through L'Engle's writing, we are given the opportunity to face this inevitable aspect of life and gain a new perspective.

It makes us realize the importance of understanding death and how it impacts our lives and the lives of those around us.

Her exploration of this theme is both thought-provoking and enlightening.

It is books such as The Summer of the Great-Grandmother that assist me in recollecting my enthusiasm for delving into the past.

Books like this manage to capture a fragment of the wonder that I almost verge on as I sit and listen to my own grandmothers share stories of their lives. With each of my four grandmothers, I have engaged in extensive conversations and listening sessions. Sadly, two of them have now passed away. One, I had the distinct honor of helping to complete her memoirs. As for the fourth, I yearn to know her better. I can identify with author Madeline L'Engle's quest to get to know the woman who is the "great-grandmother" in this story, as L'Engle chronicles her own mother's life fading away. Here, she pens the true account of the final summer of her mother's life.

L'Engle, whose name is frequently linked to the sci-fi classic A Wrinkle in Time, writes with genre-defying unpredictability. She bravely (and, in my opinion, successfully) grapples with issues of illness, dementia, the essence of humanity, and death. Throughout all of this, she skillfully guides the reader through the complex and delightfully entertaining world of her family tree.

I had my husband laughing out loud as I recounted tales from L'Engle's grandfather's life. We both gasped in awe at how L'Engle's grandfather overcame a leg ravaged by gangrene, endured kidney disease simply by always having a pitcher of water by his side, and conquered heart disease by taking up mountain climbing. All of this in an era when the understanding of human anatomy and medicine was far less advanced than it is today.

Towards the conclusion of her book, L'Engle left me reeling in thoughtful amazement at the concept of being remembered. She accurately identifies "being remembered" as something that many of us strive for. She even points out that this was not an unfamiliar concept in Biblical culture (consider how one of the rare and great honors that God promised to a select few individuals in Scripture was that their names would be remembered throughout the generations). And then, this is where my mind went into a dizzying spiral: Of all the people who have lived and died in human history, how many of them are actually remembered by those of us alive on the earth today? So few. So very few.

I join L'Engle in rejoicing that our God remembers. I think of the countless believers, numbering in the millions, who have lived simple, beautiful, ordinary yet glorious lives, but whose memory has been completely lost (forever) to the human race. Yet God Himself knows and remembers them perfectly. Their memory is preserved in the best way possible, for their names are inscribed indelibly in the Book of Life.

--Jen

Madeleine L'Engle, an extraordinary YA author, found herself grappling with her mother's dementia. She used this as a backdrop to share the story of her mother's life. As I read, I recognized many of the emotions I had felt when dealing with my own dad. The fact that we both think of it as "dealing with" our parent highlights a common conflict.

L'Engle is deeply religious, and at one point, she discusses the need to practice praying, much like she practices a particularly difficult Bach Fugue. The concept of practicing prayer had never occurred to me before. It made me stop and think about the importance of consistent spiritual practice.

Her words also made me reflect on the complex relationship between a child and a parent with dementia. It's not just about caring for their physical needs but also about navigating the emotional turmoil that comes with it. Madeleine L'Engle's writing offers a poignant and relatable perspective on this challenging topic.

The Crosswicks Journal - Book 2, The Summer of the Great-Grandmother is a profound account. It details the final summer Madeleine L'Engle's mother spent at their family home in Crosswicks and her subsequent passing before summer's end. It delves into her mother's physical and mental decline, including senility, and explores the rich history and cherished remembrances of her mother's side of the family.

Here are some thought-provoking quotes from her book, written in 1974. She remarks on how many people, of various ages, talk about the books they could write if only certain conditions were met. The young often wait for inspiration, yet she knows that inspiration usually strikes during the process of working. Older individuals often claim they lack the time, but she understands that waiting for time would mean nothing gets written.

She also reflects on perfectionism, stating that it is imprisoning. She has always believed in the importance of freedom, which she defines as the ability to remember, share, dream, and accept irrationality and paradox. Despite the limitations she faces this summer, such as not being able to drive due to vision problems and the responsibilities of caring for her mother and the household, she still feels that her freedom is up to her because she has willingly entered into this time.

However, she acknowledges that there are times in life when human freedom is denied, not just in prisons and concentration camps. She recalls a time when she was in extreme pain and close to death, and her freedom was entirely out of her hands. She also mentions a conversation she had with a "good" woman who asked if the victims of concentration camps found consolation in prayer. She was shocked by the question and responded that they were probably in a dark realm beyond the comfort of conscious prayer, similar to extreme physical pain.

Her mother's loss of memory frightens her, as she sees it as the loss of her mother's self and uniqueness. Memory is essential to her as a storyteller, and she emphasizes the importance of using memory creatively within a structured framework, even in a world where structure is unfashionable.

Finally, she shares how her creative energy is being drained by sharing her mother's long, slow dying process. She manages to write one angry and bitter story, which makes her feel better, but most of her is consumed by her mother's battle. Watching her mother being slowly snuffed out is the opposite of pregnancy, depleting instead of fulfilling, and she is exhausted by the conflict.

I read this long ago, but recently found these notes, which have once again brought these powerful thoughts and emotions to the forefront of my mind.