Back in 2008, Ruth Fitzmaurice’s husband Simon was diagnosed with motor neurone disease. His career was just starting to lift and they had three small children so Ruth put her writing ambitions on the back burner to care for him and them. Events took a more dramatic turn when he was given four years to live and then they had had twins. Even though Simon can only communicate using his eyes and technology, he still managed to direct My Name is Emily. Ruth regularly heads to a cove in Greystones, Co. Wicklow with two close friends, Michelle and Aifric to swim in the cold seas. She calls this tribe ‘The Tragic Wives’ Swimming Club’; and gives her a necessary respite from her other tribe of children and carers for Simon.

Even in the most tragic of circumstances, she can see hope, even though she has periods of time where she feels raw and vulnerable. Ruth has a roller coaster of emotions living with Simon and his motor neurone disease. It is tough, but not as tough as the moments when she has to answer the children’s questions as what is happening with Dad, especially when she doesn’t have the answers. The sea swimming becomes those moments when she can be herself and relax with her friends. Her beautiful, sparse prose gets to the very essence of what is happening with the various tribes. It is a moving book too, with several poignant moments. She is one tough lady. 3.5 stars ( )

Well written. Little swimming involved. An ode to her dying husband suffering from MND and her mental well-being throughout. ( )

I had previously started this book before my most recent health scare and hospitalization. People who have so much more on their plate than they know how to handle, how do they manage day to day. How do they work through all the muddles of life, and Ruth with young children and a husband who is suffering from Motor Neuron Disease, how does she cope? How does he? Always, I am looking for words of wisdom, even if one thing shines out from the dark, it is something to grasp, grab a hold of and work toward.

A very introspective read, as Ruth takes us back and forward, to the present in all it's messiness, sometimes hopelessness. Decisions she alone has to make, caretakers, nurses, aides, who invade their house, her relationship with her husband. She finds solace in the sea, swimming, it reaffirms her, helps her find her own tribe, those who love the sea, the wildness, the quietness, it's changing face. She makes the most, or tries to, of such moments, trying to invigorate her soul. She is full of love, full of angst, bitterness,all the many things one expects to feel in her situation. She, though, never stops trying, she has her children, a life of sorts, and it is this always striving but also the honesty in her thoughts, feelings that appealed. I think this is a book that will call! To certain people, maybe like myself when it is needed, a reminder that we are never perfect nor is the life we lead ever promised to be so, yet we can and do continue.

The storytelling reminded me of [book:M Train|24728470] by [author:Patti Smith|196092], which was a book I loved for the same reasons that I embraced this one. A woman trying to come to the best of their ability, to retain some sense of self against incredible odds.

ARC from Netgalley. ( )

A special thank you to NetGalley and Bloomsbury USA for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

This rambling, manic at times, narrative is a raw and honest book about living with MND (here in Canada known as ALS—amyotrophic lateral sclerosis—or Lou Gehrig's disease). Ruth Fitzmaurice's filmmaker husband, Simon, was diagnosed with motor neurone disease in 2008. He is wheelchair-bound, not able to move or breathe on his own, and can only communicate through the use of an eye gaze computer. It is these eyes that Ruth uses as the windows in which to find her husband—she knows he is still in there even though he can't speak to her, or touch her.

Ruth and Simon are parents to five children, all under the age of ten. As if that weren't chaos enough, there is a constant parade of nurses that come and go 24 hours a day, and a gaggle of pets including an aggressive basset hound. One of the many challenges Ruth faces is to find any sort of peace in the chaos, any moment of stillness and calm to keep her sane and grounded. She craves connections, whether it be to her "Tragic Wives' Swimming Club", or to her favourite nurse, Marian. Human connection is so important to survival, especially in times of tragedy.

Fitzmaurice doesn't use any type of timeline, or write in any kind of order. Instead, she chunks her staccato type narrative into mini essays. To be honest, it took me a while to get into her groove, there are times where she is all over the place and scattered and it feels like she has simply taken every thought in her head and put it on the page in order to make sense of her life. While this type of writing doesn't appeal to everyone, it works for this book. This memoir is raw, honest and heartbreaking, while at the same time showing the beauty of love. It inspires, and demonstrates the resilience of the human spirit. Ruth is unabashedly open with her thoughts and feelings and I think she is incredibly brave to bare her life in this way. ( )

This book touched me immensely, and I will most definitely keep thinking about it for a long time to come.

Ruth Fitzmaurice, an Irish mother of 5 in her 30s, has written a raw, heart-tugging account of what it has been like living with her husband's motor neurone syndrome for the past 8 years. In recent years this young father has been left on a ventilator only able to move his eyes (whilst his brain remains unaffected), but rather than this novel focusing on him and the ins and outs of his illness and deterioration, Fitzmaurice focuses on how it has affected her and their five young children.

This is a no holds barred account of the utter devastation this terminal illness has wreaked on her life, and she writes with searing honesty of how in their 30s they live in their home like 80 year olds with tilting beds and an ever changing rota of nurses and carers who invade the privacy of every corner of their home 24/7. She mourns the loss of her husband's voice and the physicality of how he used to dance with his hands when he talked. She grieves for the life they have lost together, and finds brief solace swimming in the freezing Irish Sea with her 'tribe' of girl friends where she can cry and laugh and enjoy feeling wild and free and unencumbered for short bursts of time before going back to face the daily psychological mountain she has to climb every day.

Fitzmaurice doesn't pity herself as such, but she doesn't hold back with continually railing against the injustice of their situation, of being robbed of their dreams. Her coping mechanism for the kids is to encourage a house of chaos, where in the depths of his illness they added another two kids to their brood as well as countless animals.

This new author is to be applauded for the quality of her writing. The setting of her story with the backdrop of her continual pull to the sea works very well, and her consistent hunger to reach out and grab life and shake it up is incredibly inspiring. Her prose had a very unique voice, and if I could have finished this in one sitting I would have.

4.5 stars - an inspiring read that will leave you feeling humbled and needing to get out there and grab life by the horns. ( )