Three Weeks With My Brother

Saturday, April 4, 2009


Today's book was suggested by Rhyme & Reason.

Today's book; "In January 2003 Nicholas Sparks and his brother Micah set off on a three-week trip around the world. An adventure by any measure, this trip was especially meaningful as it marked another milestone in the life journey of two brothers who, by their early thirties, were the only surviving members of their family. As Nicholas and Micah travel the globe, from the Taj Mahal to Machu Picchu, the story of their family slowly unfolds. Just before Nicholas's marriage he and Micah lost their mother in a horse riding accident; a week short of Nicholas's triumphant debut as a novelist with THE NOTEBOOK, the brothers lost their father to a car crash, and just a few short years later they were forced to say goodbye to their sister who died of brain cancer at the young age of 36. Against the backdrop of the main wonders of the world the brothers come together to heal the wounds of this tragic legacy and maintain their determination to live life to its fullest."

I'm just warning you now dear readers, today's entry isn't going to be terribly amusing. Even I have too high of standards to joke about death.

After reading this book I finally understand why all of Nicolas Sparks' books are so tragic - nearly all of them were inspired by a tragedy in Sparks' own life. I enjoyed today's book, and thought it was the best of all of Sparks' books that I've read (although I haven't read them all, I stopped after the 3rd or 4th one because they were all so sad), but it certainly wasn't a feel-good kind of book. It was, however, the kind of book that made me feel very lucky to be a member of my tragedy-free, fully intact family - it also made me want to hug every single one of them (which is saying a lot for me since I feel the urge to hug people approximately once every 9 years or so - I'm not a hugger).

The book did have some amusing parts. I enjoyed reading about all the trouble Sparks' and his brother got into as children. It reminds me of the stories my Dad tells of throwing water balloons at police cars, and also from the roof of his house on Halloween. And occasionally we'll go into a store and he'll point to the floor and say, "Do you see those black marks on the floor? I made those marks with a shopping cart when I was 8." Apparently my Grandparents put the super in supervise.