But Moss discovers that there are other ways besides having children to make a mark, and that grief is not a stopping place but a companion that travels along with us through everything, even happiness. And we learn about the inspiring women in Moss’s family-her mother, her grandmother, and her great-grandmother-as she sorts out her feeling that this line will end with her. Among her interests: yellow fever, good cocktails, the history of New Orleans, and, always, the natural world, including the praying mantis in her sunroom whom she names Claude. Moss’s wise, droll voice and limitless curiosity lift this beautiful memoir beyond any narrow focus. We follow Moss through her surgery, complications, and recovery as her thoughts turn to her previous struggles with infertility, to grief and healing, to what it means to leave a legacy. Doctors are baffled, but eventually a diagnosis-hemangioma-is determined and a hysterectomy is scheduled. West Moss finds herself bleeding uncontrollably in the middle of a writing class, she drives herself to the hospital. “I drive and say to myself, if I am dying, if this is how I die, then this is how I die.” When N. Complete with family stories over cocktails and a new friend named Claude, who happens to be a praying mantis. Honest, warm, and witty, this memoir reads like a chat with a dear friend sharing her insight and her vulnerabilities and taking us along as she heals.
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