Annie Freeman’s Fabulous Traveling Funeral by Kris Radish

A friend of mine loaned me this book. It’s not one that I would have picked up for myself. While the cover looks fun, the title looks sad. And as I’ve said before, life is sad enough. I don’t need to read about it. It took me several months to get through it—not because it was a bad book but because it was a sad book. I could only read a few pages at a time before I was sobbing uncontrollably. So I’d put it down for a few days until I felt strong enough to continue. Now comes my “full disclosure.” My daughter died when she was five, so I’m probably more weepy than most. These women’s feelings about the loss of their friend struck a chord with me. About three-fourths of the way through the book, I finally stopped crying. I finally got tired of all the sadness. If fact, I got tired of them rehashing the same feelings and thoughts over and over again. I’m the only one allowed to do that, and I do it in the privacy of my own mind. Yes, I found the book interesting enough and compelling enough to finish it through my tears. And Radish has a new book out that I think I might read—The Sunday List of Dreams—because she is obviously a gifted writer. Three out of four bookworms.