it’ll fade. we will get the sun on it.
an autobiographical work by Anna Whitwham retelling her experience of seeing her mother slowly fade away with cancer and the subsequent grief of losing her, and her intense and powerful however brief affair with boxing. the book intertwines these stories beautifully, sometimes explicitly through the use of cursive, highlighting the separate timelines, sometimes blending them into one line of reflection.
we see a person prone to fighting, familiar to hurting herself and others, choosing to channel her grief and anger into methodical and violent art of boxing.
you’re going to get hit.
and getting hit she does. one spar after another Anna hones in her skills in preparation for her first fight, learning the choreography of fighting, feeling deeply into the strong animal nature of her body that requires nourishment and proper disciplined care. she speaks a lot about concerned and judgmental glances, so many being all too eager to give her a lecture on why this interest of hers is not normal. yet she perseveres, wearing fresh bruises and swellings as badges of honor.
throughout the story Anna learns to live with her mother no longer being there and yet being with her wherever she goes. she feels mother’s presence in her body, in the body of her daughter, in her sister.
she learns the edges of her body, its limits, its ways of healing and how she can rely on it.
i got a bit sad that she gradually decided to stop boxing after that one fight. regardless it served her incredibly. she managed to regain her lost softness, to re-inhabit the world in all her fullness, to love and feel loved again. and that’s a beautiful miracle.
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