Reading Margaret Mandell’s memoir, And Always One More Time, feels like visiting an art gallery in which each painting represents a chapter in the author’s life. Each piece in the exhibit is breathtaking in its simplicity, and yet so deep in its meaning.
But unlike most memoirs, this author starts around sixty-five years old when her husband succumbs to a fatal disease. From the outset, the author makes it clear that she is tackling end-of-life issues.
Naturally most entertainment focuses on younger years, filled with zest and enthusiasm. So a memoir about this later stage of life, when death peaks from behind its curtain, at first seems disconcerting. But I set my concerns aside.
I read memoirs to learn about the inner workings of the people in my world. I do more than read them. I lose myself in them.
If she shares the sorrow of her situation in some places, even misery, I’m okay with that. Because I expect her to follow the genre’s premise: that as she strives to cope with her situation, she will find kernels of truth, and even joy.
From the first page, I am rewarded by her kind, gentle approach – to herself, her situation, and the people around her. By tuning into her inner voice, the wrinkles disappear behind the ageless qualities that don’t deteriorate over time. In chapter after chapter, I feel her vigor, her thirst for individual expression, and by listening closely, I hear the love that courses through her veins: love for life, love for others, and love for the amazing gift of a lifetime.
Margaret Mandell doesn’t minimize the disadvantages of aging. Rather, she comfortably infuses those aches and uncertainties with the vital life force that continues to flow.
By the end of And Always One More Time, Margaret Mandell is considerably older than when she started. But she keeps trying, taking steps toward hope, in her own way. And in her relentless commitment to love, to the people who remain, and even to the memory of her past joys and successes, she portrays her seventies as a period of youthful opportunity and joy.
After reading this memoir, I share a sigh of peace at the author’s sense of closure, and a deep gratitude for all the work she poured into creating this book.
Of course, not everyone can manage to stay upbeat through these fraught years of physical ailments and inevitable loss. But that’s exactly the point of this magnificent genre. We no longer need to be trapped by our fears and generalizations. Memoirs let writers express their unique experiences and let readers expand their insight into these possibilities.
The real miracle of reading this memoir goes far beyond one author’s experience of loss and resilience. The genre, as a whole, offers a closeup look at the vast range of individual insight and personal development
Taken together, all the memoirs I read offer a view of the entire lifespan, from childhood to the end. And each one provides a dot on an infinitely larger canvas upon which to paint the glorious experience of being human.
Notes
See Margaret Mandell’s home page for more information about And Always One More Time.
See this related article about how Margaret Mandell’s memoir offers a path toward healing from grief.
When I was first learning about the Memoir Revolution, I read three memoirs by Harry Bernstein who published his first one at the age of 93. – See my blog: Never too late. Harry Bernstein’s first Memoir at 93!
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