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Wow.

It truly astounds me what some people live through. What they are forced to endure. What they choose in response. I don't know if I feel more empathy for Lucy and her physical and emotional struggles, or Ann, who had a ringside seat to it all, trying to continue to love despite all the odds against it.

This chronicle of a unique friendship was brutally honest and painfully real. Two women with similar goals but different personalities, who somehow find each other and manage to navigate life's obstacle course without being irreparably torn apart by the stumbles and skinned flesh for years, until one finally succumbs to her inner demons.

This story made me think of those I love with similar challenges. The wish to help, the sacrifices made to another, the love inextricably intertwined with exhaustion and helplessness, the attempt to set boundaries that might be impossible to keep, or might result in never ending guilt. The endless questioning about what to do and how to do it. The love and admiration that never penetrates the inner psyche of your friend.

And then the Lucy aspect: the early damage with life-long consequences to her well-being and self-identity, the physical pain and ordeal of trying to repair a damaged body, the uncertainty that she will never be enough for herself or others, the depression, the self-hatred, the loneliness, the constant doubt, the inability to change what needs changing.

A well-rendered testament to love and relationship as life frays the edges. I felt this at a visceral level as people in my life surfaced within the words Patchett used to describe her experiences.