October 5, 2015 - 14:44
On one hand, Cheryl's background feels achingly similar to mine -- we are both fiercely close to our mothers, moved from poor homes to other poor homes during childhood, and felt a responsibility to look over our sibling(s). Just like Cheryl's mom, my own mother is my world. I do everything for her, and all I want is for my mother to be happy and at peace, if nothing else. While reading the chapters detailing Cheryl's mother's death, I couldn't help but feel awful and sympathetic towards her and the entire situation.
Yet, Cheryl's behavior after her mother's death bothered me. Perhaps I'm being too harsh, but I felt little sympathy for Cheryl as she chronicled her heroin addiction, her sex tales, and her drift away from friends and family. I was most angered by her divorce with Paul. How could she cheat on a man who was so dear a friend, so caring, and looked after her so much in her time of crisis? He was good and kind to her, but she didn't deserve him and blew away her marriage carelessly. Just because something horribly life-changing happens to you does not mean that you can destroy the relationships you have with people you love. I don't understand Cheryl in this part of the book.