Never Change

Never Change by Elizabeth Berg

As is typical with a Berg book, I would like to chat this one out as soon as I close the back cover.  This wasn't one of my favorites for two primary reasons:  1)  it revolves around the final weeks of a man's life who has a cancerous brain tumor (I have a dear friend who recently learned she has a brain tumor and she is in the scary waiting season to learn more about the prognosis) and 2) suicide is presented as a viable option, particularly for someone with a terminal illness.

Having said that, I once again appreciate Berg's insight into people.  The main character is very interesting as she is a self-described loner/wallflower/spinster type, yet she begins to realize that she has set herself apart from others and created much of her own loneliness.  I also enjoyed meeting the various characters she works with as a home health nurse.  They all have such different things going on in their lives, they all experience some sort of growth throughout the novel, and their relationship with the main character produces mutual growth.

At the end of the book, I had to reflect on the irony of the title.  So many write in a friend's high school yearbook "never change", but the truth is, we all change--and change is good.  Sometimes it takes something drastic to shake us out of our comfort zone, our default choices and emotions, but we can't grow without changing.  I have changed so much, I wonder if I would even recognize my high school self!  I found it interesting to consider the rather rough character, DeWitt (a drug dealer), and his perspective on how people deal with the challenges in life:

"We all on drugs, baby.  Just choose different kinds, is all.  Some folks sit in churches with they butts clamped tight.  Some spend their whole lives buying (stuff).  But don't you doubt it for a minute, girl, we is all of us in the bidness of numbing ourselves" (202).

I think I was most struck by the way she emphasized how alienating having a terminal illness is.  It separates one from others; it is something that you ultimately have to experience alone.  No one else can do it for you and no one else can fully understand or fully be there for you as you go through it.

"Who can be with me, Myra?  Not Diann, she can't do it.  This is so lonely, I'm in here so alone.  That's the thing that hurts the most.  Somebody draws this small circle, you step inside.  Somebody stops the bus and tells you you have to get off and you're not nearly where you wanted to go, but you have to get off.  And nobody will look at you the whole way down the aisle.  If only they would look" (78).

 That was somewhat depressing to me, yet it makes sense too.  Hmmm, still thinking about it.