The Art of Losing It
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Gripping and heartrending but ultimately hopeful, the recently released memoir The Art of Losing It by Rosemary Keevil (She Writes Press) is the story of a struggling mother who finds her way ― slowly, painfully ― from one side of grief and addiction to the other.
When her brother dies of AIDS and her husband dies of cancer in the same year, Keevil is left on her own with two young daughters and antsy addiction demons dancing in her head.
She’s a young mother jerking from emergency to emergency as the men in her life drop dead around her; a high-functioning radio show host waging war with her addictions while trying to raise her two little girls who just lost their daddy; and finally, a recovering addict whose stint in rehab and sobriety ushers in a fresh brand of chaos instead of the tranquility her family so desperately needs.
Says Lisa Smith, author of Girl Walks Out of a Bar, “Beautifully written; there is no self-pity here. Her story and her family are an inspiration to those who feel alone in their struggles.”
Here is a brief excerpt from the book, provided with permission from the publisher, She Writes Press:
I lie beside Barry on the bed as we wait for the ambulance, my right arm around his waist. I can practically feel the will draining from his body. What little hope we have left is infused with futility and an impending sense of doom. Without words, we know we both feel exactly the same way. We are communicating via a type of telepathy.
Willow and Dixie are looking out the front window as the ambulance pulls into the driveway, mesmerized by the big white-and-red vehicle with a red light on top — which is not flashing — that has come to take their daddy away. My motherly instincts make me desperately want to shelter them from all of this, but I can’t. I can’t cushion them from this harsh reality.
I watch them watch the ambulance attendants readying the gurney. I see two little girls grappling with a tangle of new emotions, and I know that their innocence will shield them for only so long. This is something none of us can escape from, and it will leave an indelible mark on our souls.
It’s almost as difficult watching them flounder as it is watching my husband die. What must this be like for their little two-year-old and five-year-old minds and hearts? What are they thinking?
As if she hears my ponderings, Willow looks up at me and says, “Is Daddy going to die today?”
Flustered by her brutally honest curiosity, I can muster up only “Well, sweetie, we really don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Right then, the paramedics knock on the door.
Excerpted from The Art of Losing It: A Memoir of Grief and Addiction, by Rosemary Keevil, published by She Writes Press, October 2020.
