Book review: "Touching the Edge"

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0 height="100%"><tr> <td valign="top" width=200 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <A HREF="id64.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Spring"><U>Spring</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id66.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Summer"><U>Summer</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id19.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Breath of Winter, and Sorrow is not Fore"><U>Breath of Winter, and Sorrow is not Forever - Love is.</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id21.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Holidays Seasons Reflected yeararound"><U>Holidays & Seasons Reflected year-around*</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id59.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="New Years Resolutions"><U>New Year's Resolutions</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id20.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Thoughts and Poetry"><U>Thoughts and Poetry</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id60.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Thoughts and Reflections "><U>Thoughts and Reflections </U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id70.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Thoughts, Memories, and Expressions"><U>Thoughts, Memories, and Expressions</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="forum.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Thoughts, Webrings, Yahoo Groups"><U>Thoughts, Webrings, & Yahoo Groups</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id52.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Art Expressions of Love Healing"><U>Art - Expressions of Love & Healing</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id51.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Songs Memories Music from the Heart"><U>Songs & Memories - Music from the Heart</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id67.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Essays Experiences"><U>Essays & Experiences</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id71.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Gardens and Plants"><U>Gardens and Plants</U></A></div> <div> <B>Book review:  "Touching the Edge"</B></div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="news___books.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="News and Books"><U><IMG SRC="13558580.jpg" border=0 width="88" height="88" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id73.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="News Archive"><U><IMG SRC="1a53c310.gif" border=0 width="60" height="49" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></U></A></div> </td> <td valign="top" BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" ><B>Minneapolis Chapter of The Compassionate Friends</B></FONT>     |     <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Minneapolis Chapter of The Compassionate"><U>home</U></A></div> <div> back to  <A HREF="id4.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Thoughts, Poetry, and Reflections"><U><B>Thoughts, Poetry, and Reflections</B></U></A></div> <div> Book review:  "Touching the Edge"</div> <div> From the Minneapolis Star Tribune</div> <div> August 23, 2003 p E1</div> <bR> <div> <B>Touching the Edge:</B></div> <div> <B>A Mother's Spiritual </B></div> <div> <B>Path from Loss to Life</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>By:</B> Margaret Wertele.</div> <bR> <div> <B>Publisher: </B>Wiley, 246 pages, $24.95</div> <bR> <div> <B>Review:  </B>This memoir recounts the dimensions of loss and change after the death of Wurtele's 22-year-old son.  What makes her journey so fruitful is her unsparing honesty, unrelenting will, and spiritual insight.</div> <bR> <div> <B>by Krista Tippett</B></div> <div> <B>-----------------------------------------</B></div> <bR> <div> <B>Excerpt:</B></div> <bR> <div> The night came.  I turned; I rolled over.  No position was comfortable.  I passed the hours on top of a cold, icy mountain.  I watched my son slip, fall, and tumble through space, again and again.  I tried to enter his mind, to know if he knew he was dying.</div> <bR> <div> I wanted to know if he thought of me, of his family, or of Nicole as he was falling.  I wondered if he had felt the pain.  I imagined what it would be like to be dead.  I wondered if he still had thoughts and feelings, if he knew he had died, if he knew how empty and sad I was...Did he cry as he fell?  Was there a wail?  Did anyone hear it?  Did it echo endlessly, bounce from one peak to another, rise to disappear in the howl of the wind?</div> <bR> <div> In my tossing and turning...I thought a lot about God, about this new underlying presence in my life that I had come to trust, to count on, to look to for guidance.  Until now, God had seemed to be a positive force, a source of support, a deep, mysterious well into which I could dip when my spirit was thirsty.  I had learned to open myself inward, leading ultimately beyond myself, to receive direction from the resonant stillness inside of me.</div> <bR> <div> Now I froze.  I did not know which way to turn.  What was this new sadistic twist in mny story?  Was Phil's death my reward for conversion, this pain the consequence of joining the church?  What had gone wrong?  Was I suddenly being confronted with a punishing, vengeful God, one I had never acknowledged?  In my late-night agony, I curled up in a ball, wanting to hide from the darkness that engulfed me.</div> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <I><B>From "Touching the Edge"</B></I></div> <div> <I><B>by Margaret Wurtele</B></I></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>