I finished book #17 today (out of my scheduled 52 for this year) – Love Is A Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song At A Time by Rob Sheffield. Just a really sweet (and sad) short memoir on his young adult life with his wife, with his various crafted mix tapes acting as soundtracks for that time. Also, it seems as though stories of widowers make my heart hurt. I really don’t think guys are cut out to lose their wives first. Oof. Verdict: Recommended.
Some favorite passages:
For two weeks, I lay awake at night and said Hail Marys over and over to stop my heart from beating too fast. I suddenly realized how much being a husband was about fear: fear of not being able to keep somebody safe, of not being able to protect somebody from all the bad stuff you want to protect them from. Knowing they have more tears in them than you will be able to keep them from crying. I realized that Renee had seen me fail, and that she was the person I was going to be failing in front for the rest of my life. It was just a little failure, but it promised bigger failures to come. Additional ones, anyway. But that’s who your wife is, the person you fail in front of. Love is so confusing; there’s no peace of mind.
In some circles, admitting you love Top 40 radio is tantamount to bragging you gave your grandmother the clap, in church, in the front row at your aunt’s funeral…
It’s the same with people who say, ‘Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’ Even people who say this must realize that the exact opposite is true. What doesn’t kill you maims you, cripples you, leaves you weak, makes you whiny and full of yourself at the same time. The more pain, the more pompous you get. Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you incredibly annoying.