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An appeal from the author Why you should become a Salon member. By Anne Lamott

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T A B L E++T A L K

Single moms discuss the good, the bad and the ugly of raising kids solo in the Mothers area of Table Talk

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Doyou love Anne Lamott? Buy her books at BarnesandNoble.com!

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R E C E N T L Y

Forever young
By Joan Walsh
In defense of My Twinn: Why the doll that horrifies parents appeals to children
(12/22/98)

Star quality
By Debra Ollivier
A "Little Prince" among men
(12/22/98)

Forever young
By Joan Walsh
In defense of My Twinn: Why the doll that horrifies parents appeals to children
(12/21/98)

Airstrikes of mercy
By Geraldine Brooks
A former Middle East correspondent explains how Saddam Hussein turned her from a pacifist into a hawk
(12/21/98)

Second Thoughts: Rolling out the years
By Sallie Tisdale
No one has time to bake cookies. That's why you need to
(12/17/98)

BROWSE THE WORD BY WORD ARCHIVES

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Mamafesto
By Camille Peri
Why it's time
for Mothers Who Think

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Salon Columnists

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THE LAST WALTZ | PAGE 1, 2
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There was nothing left for the doctors to try, and everyone was very sad, especially Carol, who loves her daughter and that grand little grandson so much, but what are you going to do when there's nothing left for the doctors to do? If you're lucky, you get on with life. So when her friends started talking to her about the details of a memorial service, her main wish was to be there for it.

And so she was: A few Saturdays ago she gave a party at the Stinson BeachCommunity Center. She wanted to say thank you to the people of her town for all they had done, to let them know that she had lived as long and as well as she had because of their friendship -- all those meals they had cooked, all thatblood they had given, all those children they had baby-sat so their parents could cook or drive.

The big barnlike community center usually feels huge and impersonal, with rather unpleasant lighting. It's not fluorescent but close, bright enough so you feel exposed rather than illumined. This night, though, only a few house lights were on: There was a fire in the fireplace and Christmas lights on the tree in the corner and candles everywhere, and it all made for wonderful soupy light that cloaked everyone gently. People brought Carol a whole living room, too, couches, throw rugs, easy chairs. It was all made so ethereal and familiar that it felt as if we were all moving through one another's dream.I spotted her right away in the center of all those people. (There musthave been 200 or 300 people there, instead of the 50 she expected.) She was wearing a purple velvet dress, and she looked wonderful. Her hair is shorter now, the grayish curls cropped close to her head, and she doesn't look like the same old person because she isn't: Hard has become soft,tough has grown tenderer and, after all that chemo, all that dehydration, dry has grown lush again.

There was a bluegrass band playing in one corner, and people were talkingwith a great liveliness, as if to say, "Right this minute, we understand that this is all there is, so let's really be together." People milled around at their shiny best, under the fairy lights, as if moving loosely through the bignet that holds us all. Everyone dressed up and brought food and left their bad stuff outside on the step with their umbrellas. They took that big barny space and made it feel so warm and intimate and lively that I kept believing that everyone was dancing. It was disconcerting, because the truth was, or at least the visible reality was, that besides a melancholy hula early in the evening, almost no one danced while I was there. But there was a kind of Rumi dancing under way: "Dance when you're broken open/Dance if you've torn the bandage off ..." My friend Neshama said that in all that warmth and soft lightwe were like flecks in olive oil, or dust motes in a beam of sun, swirling anddipping and lifting and distributing ourselves all over that huge space, all the particles that were one community.

Neshama and I hid over by the tables of food waiting for our turn to see Carol. We ate everything that couldn't outrun us. Everyone eats so much at these events! Maybe it's because you have a body, and it's still here and wants your attention. Maybe you want a little extra weight so the wind won't blow you away. Mangia! There were dozens of dishes of food on the banquet tables, fancy and plain, hot and cold, meats and salads and dessert, but best of all were some tiny roasted potatoes in a huge covered dish, oily and crisp on the outside, tender on the inside, brownish red and striped with wilted rosemary. First they resisted, and then melted utterly into your mouth.

I sidled up to her daughter, who was holding that big baby boy. He is solid and jolly and mingly, and he threw himself into my arms without thinking, and I got to smell his clean baby soul and feel his wiggly toughnessfor a moment. Then he stopped, stared into my stranger's face, saw with horror that he had made a terrible error in judgment and cried out for Security. His mother reached for him, smiling, and back in her arms, he smiled at me again; he actually all but winked.

I finally got to spend a few minutes with Carol. She looked so happy in that warm light, with all her friends around. Some people seemed stricken, uncomfortable at having been invited to come say goodbye, as if this were very bad manners, or as though they had just found themselves on a ferry ride they'd never intended to take. But mostly people seemed to stretch enough to be able to open up to the fearful thought that Carol would probably die pretty soon. But in all of this shadow, Carol was glowing, giving off softness. The baby kept looking at her, flirting, and you could see how he keeps homing in on her. And you knew watching her that even though she did not want to be dying, she was going to do so with the same elegant ordinariness with which she has lived. She told me later, "I don't hate dying of cancer -- it's better than dying in other ways, because it's giving me time."

"Time for what?"

"Time to repair, time to tell everyone how much I love them." She also said, sardonically, "This purple is not going to look so great on me when the jaundice sets in," but in the meantime, in those moments, she looked luminous.That's when I realized that it was one of the most beautiful present tenses I had ever seen. She really looked like she might just start dancing momentarily, and a few minutes later, after I had said goodbye and wandered off, that is just what she did. When I first saw her moving around on the floor with her friend Richard, I thought it might be my mind playing tricks with me again; that it might be more of that Rumi dancing to "Dance music in a brilliant city inside the soul ..." But it really was Carol and Richard, dancing around the room to the old-timey bluegrass band.
SALON | Dec. 23, 1998

Anne Lamott's column appears every other week in Mothers Who Think.

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B O O K++T O U R

Anne Lamott's new book, "Traveling Mercies," will be published in February 1999. Here is her appearance schedule:

Jan. 27, Depot Bookstore, Mill Valley, Calif.

Jan. 29, 7:30 p.m., Black Oak Books, Berkeley, Calif.

Jan. 30, 7:30 p.m., Angelico Hall, Dominican College, San Rafael, Calif. Abenefit screening for St. Andrew of a documentary film on Anne Lamott ("Bird by Bird With Annie"); Anne Lamott will read and appear in conversation with filmmaker Freida Mock. Tickets are available from Book Passage (415-927-0960).

Feb. 2, 12:30 p.m., Stacey's Bookstore, Market Street, San Francisco.

Feb. 5, Barnes & Noble Union Square, New York City. Evening reading.

Feb. 6, The Learning Annex, New York City. Two back-to-back workshops oncreativity and writing.

Feb. 8, 7:30 p.m., Arlington Street Church, Boston. A talk and reading;tickets $15, available through Brookline Booksmith in Boston (617-566-6660).

Feb. 9, Borders Books & Music, Philadelphia.

Feb. 10, Washington, D.C.

Feb. 11, Baltimore.

Feb. 18, 7 p.m., Copperfield's Bookstore, Sonoma County, Calif.

Feb. 22, 7:30 p.m., Warwick's Bookstore, La Jolla, Calif.

Feb. 23, 7 p.m., Dutton's Brentwood Bookstore, Los Angeles, Calif.

Feb. 25, 7:30 p.m., California State University Chico, Chico, Calif. A talk and reading; for information call 530-898-5917.

March 1, Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago. Reading followed by booksigning; for information call 312-787-2729 ext. 271.

March 2, St Louis.

March 3, Ann Arbor, Mich.

March 4, Minneapolis.

March 11, 7:30 p.m., Book Passage Bookstore, Corte Madera, Calif. A reading and signing benefit for Breast Cancer Action.

March 19, El Camino College, Torrance, Calif. For information call 310-660-3748.

March 29, Literary Festival, Charlotte, N.C. A talk and reading; forinformation call 704-330-6962.

Apr. 21, Fool Proof Comedy Festival, Seattle, Wash. A talk, reading and book signing; for information call 206-325-3554.

Apr. 23, Portland, Ore.

May 21, 8 p.m., City Arts and Lectures, Herbst Theatre, San Francisco. Benefit screening of documentary ("Bird by Bird with Annie") followed by onstage conversation between Anne Lamott and filmmaker Freida Mock. Benefit for Breast Cancer Action; call 415-563-2463 for information.

Aug. 7-14, Squaw Valley Writers Conference, Squaw Valley, Calif.

Aug. 21-25, Sun Valley Writers Conference, Sun Valley, Idaho.




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