A Year By The Sea

In March, in the used bookstore in California, the first book I picked up was A Year by the Sea by Joan Anderson.  This was not the first time I had considered buying this book.  I almost bought it new several times when it was published in 1999.  The last time I saw it for sale in our local used bookstore I left it sitting on the shelf.

I was reticent to read the story of a woman I had watched travel the talk-show circuit.  I didn't trust the sincerity of a woman who could afford to escape for a year to her cottage on Cape Cod.  I figured if she owned a home on Cape Cod she was in pretty good shape and there wouldn't be much I could relate to in what she had to say.

The used paperback was only a dollar, so I figured why not buy it.  When a book repeatedly presents itself to me I eventually give in.  Most times I am glad I did.

This time was no exception.  It was the first book I started reading during my trip.  I intended just to read the first bit and set it aside for later.  The first paragraph grabbed my interest:  "The decision to separate seemed to happen overnight.  My husband came home from work one day and announced that he was taking a job hundreds of miles away.  As he yammered on about the details, I sat blank-faced, hard-pressed for an excuse not to accompany him.  After all, our two sons were grown, the big old family house in which we had resided for seventeen years had long since outlived its usefulness, and my job was portable.  So where was my resistance coming from?  Why was I frozen, frightened, and full of anger?" (p. 2)

It dawned on me why this book did not appeal to me fifteen years ago.  At that time I shared no point of reference with this woman.  I couldn't imagine a time when the house where I started my family would no longer suit me.  Fifteen years ago my children were growing up, but I couldn't envision a time when they would be completely grown and no longer need my presence on a regular basis.  I didn't think my husband would ever take a job hundreds of miles away without talking to me first, but if that was his choice would I refuse to go if I couldn't identify a solid reason?

However, fifteen years after she wrote the words, I could identify with what Joan Anderson was feeling.  I have moved from the house where I started my family and watched my children grow, children who now live lives totally separate from mine.  My husband has not taken another job, and he still travels often for work; what has changed is that I am now quite content with my time alone.

Once I started reading, I was hooked.  The cottage Joan escaped to was a run-down summer place that wasn't prepared for the stress of year-round occupancy.  She took full responsibility for her own expenses, which meant she soon needed to find work in a fishing village.  Joan opens herself to new experiences and new people.  She strikes up a conversation with a fascinating woman who becomes a mentor and confidante.  The wisdom her new friend imparts in itself makes the book worth reading.  I will not divulge her name here because that discovery is part of the fun....

This book is about one woman's journey of self-discovery.  I finished the book in California and have since read most of it again.  I recommend it if you are someone searching for what you cannot name, or if you are interested in reading about a woman who was willing to start the journey and share what she learned along the way.