Every Last Cuckoo

Kate Maloy takes a common situation, the death of a spouse, to ruminate on what truly is important in one's life. At age 75, Sarah mourns her beloved Charles, but before she can become embedded in her grief unexpected situations force her forward movement. Three teenagers, all lost in their youthful insecurity and pomposity, find lodging in Sarah's abode as well as a mother and son, misplaced by a vicious fire that kills the husband. Add to this mix an abused wife with a baby, a Jewish scholar from Israel and you have a melding of human kind struggling together in Sarah's home toward normal if the state exists. From each of their situations, Sarah gleans a stronger understanding of purpose, and perhaps more importantly, acceptance. In this gently paced tale Maloy never preaches wisdom; she uniquely opens it for consideration. What do we do when life throws punches and we aren't equipped to fight back? Train in the safe arena of friends till we have the tools to protect our hearts and souls? Find new avenues to contentment? Accept and let be? Maloy is lyrical in her proposed solutions and that highlights this lovely work. A beautiful, wonderfully composed gift to the world of the written word.

This isn't a whoop-em-up novel with lots of hot action ... it is a story with pace that works for thinkers and readers, for those who have a taste for content, wisdom, exquisite environs. Maloy's Vermont is a place I'd love to live in although I'm snow phobic -- her small-town is idylic enough without being impossible. When I grow old (in the not too distant future) I'd be thrilled to be half as generous, compassionate and content as Sarah. I'm thinking that, as the so-called baby-boomers age, there's going to be increasing demand for literature that intersects their history, stories and age. Kate Maloy had got it nailed.

With little time to grieve the loss of her husband, Sarah opens her doors (her home and cabin) to others in need; for peace and quiet, friendship, support (moral and physical) and love. Through her openmindedness, Sarah expands her life and experiences multi-generations. She's not in a retirement community, or left to wander for naught-to-do. She has an abundance of people in her life. She graciously allows them to grow and learn, as she grows, through experiences without judgment. Each individual is portrayed uniquely and completely. It is inevitable that Sarah is able to close the gap between her own estranged daughter. A great example of living life to the fullest!

Sarah Lucas is in her seventies, but you don't need to be her age, or a grandmother, to thoroughly enjoy this novel. Kate Maloy writes beautifully and creates compelling characters that you wish could be your friends. There's Sarah, of course, a woman who decides not to let the death of her husband make her life smaller; on the contrary, she turns her house into a refuge for old and young, and ends up forging a different family. There's Hannah, an utterly delightful three-year-old. There's Lottie, Sarah's conflicted teenage grandchild. There's... oh, there are so many interesting characters, but you should get to know them by yourself, reading this novel. Don't miss it.

This was a kind book, and smart, and I found myself deeply caring about every one of the large cast of characters -- and I had no trouble keeping them straight in my mind, which is something. There was a true warmth to it -- sweet and a bit sentimental without being in any way mawkish or ever ringing false. The small adjustments we all constantly make in our lives in order that they be good and so that we can live with ourselves and each other -- Kate Maloy captures the dynamics of family, and humanity, with real soul. This book made me feel good. The heroine, Sarah, is my new role model for growing old. Now if only I can figure out how to move back to Vermont...