A Fond Farewell

It was a very good year.

Actually, it was a great year. 

I set some goals this year, and I am happy to say I met most of them (and I continue to work on the others). I find joy in the struggle...when I can see I'm making gains. And, surprisingly, I don't seem to be wearing out at my age.I actually feel like I'm gaining momentum.

I like that.

I like it a lot.

And I feel very, very blessed.

Speaking of goals, I'm happy to say I reached my 2017 Goodreads reading goal! Today, I completed 75 books by finishing the delightful How to Find Love in a Bookshop, by Veronica Henry. What's not to love about a grown daughter who inherits her father's failing bookshop in a lovely English town? There's all sorts of problems to be solved and good friends who help and love to be found...and books! A friend recommended it to me, and I am so glad she did. It's the perfect happy ending to end a perfectly happy year.

So, while I bid a fond farewell to 2017, I look forward to what the new year will bring. I hope you're looking forward to a new beginning, as well.

I wish you all a safe and Happy New Year! May you dream new dreams, set new goals, and enjoy the journey to achieve them in 2018!

Stealing from the Poor to Give to the Rich

From now on, I will get a shiver down my spine whenever I hear the name Georgia Tann. I put her in the same category as Charles Manson and Adolf Hitler. I didn't know who she was until I read the historical fiction book Before We Were Yours by Lisa Wingate. Now, it's a name I will never forget. 

Before We Were Yours is a powerful book that tells the story of families who were forever changed by Georgia Tann and the Tennessee Children's Home Society, which consisted of a network of people who stole children from poor families and sold them to rich people. Not only that, many children died from abuse and cruelty of every kind while under the "care" of Georgia Tann and her minions. Georgia Tann was a serial killer, a kidnapper, a human trafficker, and a child abuser...before those types of labels were commonly heard in the United States.


The novel is set in two different timelines by two narrators. One narrator, 30 year old Avery, is a successful lawyer from a powerful political family in present day. While visiting a nursing home one day, for a press opportunity, she encounters an older woman named May...which leads Avery down a path she was unprepared for. Rill is the other narrator in this novel, a young girl from the past who lives in a shanty boat on the river with her family in the 1930s. It is from Rill's narrative that the reader learns about how children are stolen from their families. Wingate weaves an excellent story that includes the joy of family, the sorrow of a difficult past, and learning to come to terms with how life turns out. Rill's story is one of survival.

This historical fiction novel gave me a glimpse into an area of America's past I was unaware of before (which is why I love historical fiction). I had heard tales of movie stars adopting babies (I clearly remember the story of "Mommy Dearest" from Joan Crawford's adopted daughter), but I never would have thought the adopted children were stolen from other families - poor families.

And poor families are something I understand.

I have a deep connection to my extended family on my paternal grandmother's side. In fact, my grandmother's niece still owns, and lives on, the plot of land my great-grandparents owned during the Great Depression. I've heard tales of people walking the dirt roads in search of work back then, some of them approaching my great-grandmother as she labored in the yard over laundry. She never turned anyone away. She didn't have much, but she had a well. And she would always say to people walking by on that dusty road, "We don't have much, but we have plenty of water and welcome for anyone who needs it."

My great-grandparents, like so many farmers back then, had little to nothing...and had many children. I can't imagine someone thinking them "unfit" because they were poor and taking their children from them or stealing them off the front porch when no one was looking. I can't even begin to imagine what this kind of tragedy would do to a family, the grief everyone would suffer. I just can't imagine.

My own mother is the ninth of ten children that survived to adulthood. My maternal grandmother had another child that died from dysentery before he was two. I wonder how Georgia Tann would have viewed my grandparents and all their children living in a two bedroom house with more dirt in the yard than grass, and siblings sleeping head-to-toe to fit in one bed. When I think of how close all of my aunts and uncles have always felt to one another, I can't imagine someone taking them as children, and separating them, simply because they were poor.

I hope there's a special place, in the hottest part of hell, for Georgia Tann. May she burn forever.

Yes.

Yes, it's been a lovely weekend. 

Yes, I was able to enjoy some pleasure reading time this last week.

Yes, I finished A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman earlier last week, and I truly enjoyed it (only a real Scrooge wouldn't like it). Who wouldn't love a book about a crotchety 59 year old man who has no filter when it comes to giving his opinions to people? Ah, but that's only what it looks like on the surface. After all, there are reasons why we are the way we are. Isn't there? This book will make you laugh and touch your heart. 

Yes, I started and finished another book by an author I enjoy: Jennifer Donnelly. This time I went back in time to Victorian days to follow a young lady on a quest to solve her father's death...and a few other mysteries. These Shallow Graves was a good YA novel. While it doesn't rank as high as Donnelly's Revolution in my gradebook, I should say that no one else's YA has been able to rank as high as that one, either.

Yes, I'm already reading another book, which is completely different from the two previous ones I've mentioned. Are you ready for this? I'm reading The Snowman by Jo Nesbo. This book is definitely not my usual genre. It has completely pulled me in, and I am totally creeped out by it. Snowmen and a serial killer? It's horrifically fascinating. And the only things I'm saying to myself, at this time of night, is...'Do I have the courage to continue reading this book tonight, while I am curled up in bed and completely alone in my house? There's no snow on the ground here, does that mean I'm safe? Is that the wind howling outside? Is a cold front moving in? You know,...I don't need to read tonight. I can always read tomorrow. In the daylight. With people around. Lots of people around.'

Yes, it has been a wonderfully enjoyable day today, and I am too tired to write anymore tonight.