I read an absolutely searing memoir recently: Without a Map by Meredith Hall. The story begins when Hall becomes pregnant at age 16 (in the 1960s) and is suddenly, wrenchingly rejected by her school, friends, neighbors, siblings, and parents. Her son is placed for adoption–she’s given no choice on this–and the book outlines the repercussions as they happen over the ensuing years.
While I lost my son under different circumstances, I related so utterly to Hall’s pain and grief. About six years after she gives birth, she travels to Europe, intending to meet a boyfriend there and continue to India. Instead, she simply walks, alone and without a map or a plan or any money, for months, finally ending up in Israel with nothing but a knife, a bedroll, her passport, and a simple dress she’d made herself after selling the rest of her possessions.
Now, no one needs to worry that I’m going to take off on foot and end up in Patagonia or something. But I got it. I got why she walked. Why the only right thing to do seemed to be just to go and not stop. Why something that makes no sense can also make perfect sense. Walking let her escape her past, present, and future all at the same time. And sometimes, that feels like the only way to go.
[I did this on the wrong day, but I wanted to participate in some of the #best09 prompts and this has been on the brain.]
{ 9 comments… read them below or add one }
Wrong day, Schmong Day. I am adding this book to my list, thanks to your posting at exactly, precisely this moment when I happened to search the #Best09 on Twitter.
Your post is exactly right at the rightest right moment.
I am grateful for both it and you.
Thank you.
I’m adding this to my list for 2010!
oh oh oh.
I get the desire to move forward and let the motion dull the pain.
I think I’m going to add this to my list to read too. It sounds very intersting. I remember you mentioned this book before, but I had forgotten about it. Some how, I think I may be able to understand the need to “just walk”.
Oh, honey. My thoughts are with you.
My thoughts, too, hang with you.
I get it too. Yes it might sound crazy but it might be in that crazy courageous way because the alternatives are much crazier. Considering getting the book, and thinking of you.
I totally get it too. And it doesn’t sound crazy to me at all.
Adding my voice to the chorus of folks who get this. I just finished the book Looking for Mary, and the themes are somewhat parallel.
(Also, thanks for your comment on my faith blog. I truly understand the migraine thing and hope you’ve found some relief by now.)