Book Three - A Death in the Family

I finally finished A Death in the Family, by James Agee, this morning.  It's not a long book, but there are passages of nearly "stream of consciousness" narrative that I struggled with just a bit.  I can't say that I loved the book; something "lighter" usually appeals to me more.  But I did love how true the book was - how Agee seemed to know exactly how people think and act and react.  There were a few passages of which I took special note:

...Sleep, soft smiling, draws me unto her: and those receive me, who quietly treat me, as one familiar and well-beloved in that home: but will not, oh, will not, not now, not ever; but will not ever tell me who I am.

                                                                                                                  p. 7

I can't say why this particular passage struck me as so beautiful.  It could be because it seems so true to me that we all struggle to know our place, who we are, that we matter to others.  When we're children, we assume our parents know who they are and who we are, but of course they don't.  We're constantly changing, shifting, and often we don't know ourselves.  And sometimes we never come to know.

And God knows he was lucky, so many ways, and God knows he was thankful.  Everything was good and better than he could have hoped for, better than he deserved; only, whatever it was and however good it was, it wasn't what you once had been, and had lost, and could never have again, and once in a while, once in a long time, you remembered, and knew how far you were away, and it hit you hard enough, that little while it lasted, to break your heart.

                                                                                                                 p. 87

That's beautiful, and so authentic.  Many times, I think of my daughters when they were small, and the people they were then, and I miss them.  Those people, who they were, are lost now, and while I love the people they have become, I miss the people they used to be.  And if they have become new people, I have to recognize that I'm not the same person I was when I was younger, either.  I'm grateful for what I have - it's better than I deserve, as Agee says - and many times I'm glad I'm not that person anymore.  But sometimes, I miss her, too.