Falling Together

I just finished reading Falling Together by Marisa de los Santos. This, to me, was one of those stories I just did not want to end. I want to know what happens in the characters’ lives going forward. I want to be their friend; to be entwined in their lives.

This is the story of Will, Pen, and Cat and the friendship they formed early in their college days. They were the Three Musketeers; the St. Elmo’s Fire friends, whose friendship essentially went separate ways until several years after their graduation. Cat has disappeared, and Will and Pen reunite in order to find her and solve the mystery of her life since their split. Pen is heartsick over the death of her father; Will is stoic over the loss (but not to death) of his own father; Cat’s mystery surrounds the death of her father. The path of discovery is through each other.

The tale is told mostly from Pen’s point-of-view, but occasionally shifts to third person Will. Cat’s story is told from their memories of her. I found the characters well rounded and well developed, and their relationships to each other folded almost agonizingly slowly – I wanted to skip ahead to satisfy my curiosity! Their backstories unwind and fill in the blanks, leaving the reader to see that even book characters do have flaws in their personalities, and the road to love is not always paved with gold or is always smooth sailing. Although filled with much banter and humorous moments, to me, the best part was the prose and moments of self-discovery Pen experienced.

 

Falling Together by Marisa de los Santos

Thoughts on Being Busy and Waiting

A reading, quiet morning. I am feeling reflective, yet not. Restless, yet not. Waiting. I feel as if I am waiting for something, but I am unsure of what. Mostly I am feeling at quiet loose ends with myself; like I am in limbo for some reason. Searching? Wondering? Curious? Unsettled or too settled? Still, none of those words really describe how I feel. I think maybe this morning I am more about just being in the moment, and yet, not really. Disconnected? Maybe it is just a morning to purge some thoughts, think them, make them lucid, and then dispose of them. I don’t feel one way or another, passionate about any one topic just now. The birds are singing their morning songs, the sun rises over the pasture in all its silver and gold finery, casting green misty beams through the trees and the moss, sparkling dew drops in the grass. It’s a peaceful, quiet time. I want to say it is a fresh morning – that is what Simonetta called a similar morning in Adine-in-Chianti; that cool time before the sun comes up strong and true; a freshness in the air, a cool, calm that almost seems to exist solely to make a person smile.

To match this odd mood I am in I just read this passage from the book I am currently reading; Falling Together by Marisa de los Santos.

                On an impulse, Will asked, “What have you been waiting for?”
                When Pen answered, her voice was solemn and sheepish, “How did you know? Because you’re right. I am waiting. It hits me now and then: that I’ve been saving myself for something. A sign. A person.” She gave an embarrassed laugh. “Mostly, though, I’m just busy.”

I understand that. I just said this very thing to a friend yesterday. I feel as if I am waiting. For nothing in particular, but for something, somehow. In the meantime, I just feel like I’m busy. A while back I read an article on the word “busy”. Busy is a catch-all word that can mean most anything. Busy-work is work that just keeps a person occupied, maybe busy work is unfulfilling in ways; something to do in order to fill time. Busy is an excuse we use when we don’t want to really do something – I’m sorry, I’m busy now, that night, whenever. “I’m too busy” is an implication somehow that my life is much more important than you or whatever you want to do. There is a lot of stigma in the word “busy”. And yet we seem to consider it a true, honest word. We, as a society in general are just too busy. We fill our lives with so many things; it is almost a badge of honor to be so busy – to be too busy to go out with friends or to attend that concert, or to even find time for ourselves to breathe. Busy-ness is the norm now, and I am pretty sure it is not healthy in any regard. There is that old proverb that idle hands are the devil’s workshop – but I am pretty sure that does not mean fill every waking moment with something; slothfulness is a sin and all that. I guess I’ll get back to that thought when I am not so busy. J I think busy-ness is an excuse, plain and simple. I have been very aware of the word and how often I hear it over the last few months. I have found myself avoiding using it. It does not stop that fact that I often DO have conflicts in my over-booked schedule sometimes, but it does make me aware that I really do need to change what I try to fit into my life on a daily or weekly basis. I too often fill my days with things that are not fulfilling my soul. So Pen’s statement about waiting; I think that is true in a nutshell. Busy-ness, killing time, waiting. That is what I am aware of this quiet, reflective, yet not, morning. I’m in a waiting mood.