Ordinary Magic: Promises I Kept To My Mother
Through Life, Illness, and a Very Long Walk
Author: Cameron Powell
Publisher:Self-published, 2018
This is a book about living at any cost, and a 65-year-old woman (Inge) who completes a 500-mile walking trail in search of a cure for her ovarian cancer (the ‘emperor’). The terrain is none other than the famous Camino de Santiago range of Spain, a world-known pilgrimage for centuries. Her recently divorced son, the author, accompanies her (reluctant to agree, but incapable of denying her request) as the “expedition videographer, not to mention its chief biographer, photographer, legal counsel, and acting podiatrist.”
In the book, Cameron Powell tackles many of the issues people face in life, using his blog as a record of his thoughts. In writing the book, his blog is augmented by quotations from his mother’s own blog, as well as writings from Inge’s ‘niece’ Carrie, who accompanied mother-and-son on the journey – with her principal’s permission who indicated “You might learn more on this trip than you will here [at school].”
As we join them, we are let in on the hope that Inge and her son have – the fact that “About one of every five diagnoses [of cancer] is wrong or tardy.”
The book not only delves into the events that made Inge who she was, but also what made Cameron who he was. And in the process, we are introduced to an almost love-dislike relationship between the two. Needless to say, we all carry baggage in proportion to the amount of dysfunction our early family had.
Most enjoyable throughout the book was the feeling I got as I seemed to be reading a serious version of Seinfeld where very common truths are brought to light in a way that jolts us into realizing their impact on us. An example early in the book is when Inge is complaining (in a condescending way) about the rudeness of a text a contractor had sent her. Cameron snaps, “That tone isn’t in the text you just read me, Mom. You supplied it.” And she responds, “Oh, so I’m always the one who’s wrong.” It just gets better from there.
Then there are jabs thrown in at no extra charge like, “everyone in Europe know(s) that a large majority of Americans take the car to go from the kitchen to the bathroom.”
Because the trial has many stopping points in Spain, the book is also an opportunity to educate the reader on history with respect to the over 1,200-year-old tradition of pilgrims walking the Camino, the origin of words and names, and many other facts of interest.
The account Powell provides us is also one bordering on “new ageism” with advice from some of the characters like, “Ask for what you need. The universe will give you whatever energy you need, but if you don’t ask, nothing will happen.” That slant, along with some regular rather strong language is not my cup of tea, but clearly not worth throwing the book out over them.
Powell keeps us happy with his own humor. At one point he writes, “The fiesta is a pleasant surprise, probably because fiestaandsiestashare the same root, iesta, which is Latin for ‘let’s stop working again.’”. Or, “where there are golf clubs there will be yellow Porsche Caymans and unsuccessful plastic surgery.”
His retelling of a number of characters’ snoring is worth the price of the book. He writes, “Mom, a serious snorer in her own right, is running a manufacturing facility in her sleep. When she stops, one of the Japanese [a pilgrim] takes over, turning in an impressive performance on behalf of his countrymen. I definitely see him in the medals when all this is over, certainly on the podium.”
The physical pains and the feelings that a cancer patient experiences in their journey from life to death after diagnosis are well expressed by the author as he shares his mother’s thoughts and descriptions of every impact on the mind, body, and soul that both treatments and relapses bring.
Clearly, not a big fan of religion or faith, the author still manages to raise some serious thoughts or questions about life in the book. One example is “I am wondering if pure peace is possible.” Then he reflects how by our heartfelt talk of ‘next time’ when saying good-bye, we take some of the sting out of parting. At the same time, he suggests that we can replace a belief in God by not resisting [whatever will be], “And thus do we arrive at the lessons of both Buddhist psychology and recent science.” You pay your money and you take your choice, I guess.
As his mother is dying, Cameron shares his feelings about her and about them. He writes, “I’m not ready to lose my mother.” Then, “No one is ever ready.” And then he offers us some great quotes, like that of Ram Dass who said, “We are all just walking each other home.” The author writes, “I am ferrying my mother to the other side.” For Powell, life does not “begin again” at some point after a calamity. To him that’s a “false construct, [as] your life is going on right now, before your very eyes.”
Near the end of the book, his thoughts about what life will be like without his mother emerge stronger than ever as he writes, “Would I remember this time when she was gone? Would I miss that life in her, which I had so often taken for granted?” We all need to stop long enough to value the ‘life’ of someone we deeply love, while they are still alive.
The book is also an account of how Inge, in her desire to try every possible cure, becomes what Powell calls “a marijuana partisan and she had no patience for resistance from the unenlightened.” At the same time, as her days were numbered, Inge did not want to go to hospice either, for “Hospice meant you had given up.” And she wasn’t ready to admit that.
Near the end of the book, Powell battles with his love for his mom and doing all he can to help her, but at the same time not wanting to give false hope as she starts to lose it mentally. Still the insights continue with talk about one’s perception (and often fear) of God the Father in childhood vs. at the time of death; or Inge’s belief that “a parent is only as happy as her unhappiest child” – perhaps my favorite.
Powell, through his knowledge of how his parents’ troubles went, has his thoughts about how money can trump justice. On his own divorce, and after seeing his ex when she came to visit his mother in her last days, looking beautiful and well dressed, he writes, “I had never once held the desire that we resume [our relationship], but I did hold too long to the wish that she would, in a sense, return as recognizably [as] the person I thought I knew. But we can’t always choose whom we recognize after a breach.” That’s profound.
He makes a comment, perhaps unintentionally, on the differences in gender when he notes who has been visiting his mother in her dying days, and writes, “Where were my mother’s male friends?” He had seen them for they had eaten like kings at her dining table or from paper plates on their laps in her backyard.
Waiting for Inge to die, Powell reflects how at times we sound like characters in a work by Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot.Meanwhile his mother utters that she just feels like “bits and pieces” and wonders if they’re ever going to come back together, to which he replies (although I’m not sure on what basis given his views of faith as well as not wanting to give false hope) “Yes, Mom. They will come back together. And you’ll be much happier.”
Near the end of the book we have another of Inge’s great sayings on being “sad”. I’ll let you discover that one for yourself. It’s probably the best advice you can give someone, including yourself.
I recommend this book if you love life and fear death. I recommend this book if you love someone so much you never want to lose them. You will learn you are not alone.
Ken B. Godevenos, President, Accord Resolutions Services Inc., Toronto, Ontario, July 22, 2018, www.accordconsulting.com
