"I felt like we were included in the story..."
I can't remember the last time I couldn't put a book down and shooed everyone out of the room to read it in peace.
I'm still trying to fathom why this book caught me like it did.
It's an incredibly difficult subject, which I might not normally read, for fear of feeling like a voyeur. Instead, I felt like we were included in the story - we want the best for Josephine, we feel like we know her and her expressions of happiness and discomfort. We want her to be happy and comfortable.
There is no emotive, plucking- at-the-heartstrings sentimentality in this book. It's the overwhelming, all-consuming love that the family and everyone that knows Josephine have for her that draws you in and brings you close.
It's a story of love, determination and disability which we all should read.
"I have been thoroughly humbled by reading this."
It seems counterintuitive to say that a book about pain, injury, frustration and grief can be enriching but I am totally with those like Miriam Margolyes who have found ‘Can I speak to Josephine please?’ an entirely enriching experience. It would be understandable if Sheila Brill had not written this book at all, choosing to move on after Josephine’s death. And it would also have been understandable if having decided to write it she had glossed over her own doubts, denials and difficulties focussing only on achievements and positive landmarks in her care for Josephine. It is enriching however to learn how much love Josephine was able to give to those around her and to learn how committed to her Sheila was - all through Josephine’s life. No effort was spared to ensure Josephine was comfortable and happy, even in the face of such profound and at times overwhelming challenge. I have been thoroughly humbled by reading this. Thank you Sheila.
