While on holiday, recently, I read Debra Adelaide’s novel, The Household Guide to Dying (Picador/Pan Macmillan, 2008). What a wonderful book!

Some of you may be wondering: what’s she doing reading something so gloomy? A few years ago, I spent a short time in another suburb’s library. I think The Old Boy and I had arrived early for something in the area; it was coffee or books and this time we chose to read. I spied the book lying on a table and thought it looked intriguing. I only got through the first two chapters before it was time to go. A short while ago a friend asked – rather tentatively, as if I might be bothered by the question – whether I had read it. Turns out she owns a copy, I borrowed it and here we are.

Apart from sentences that meander on a bit too long, it is a cleverly-crafted, intelligent, warm, gut-wrenching, beautiful story. The main character is dying and there are some things she needs to do before her time is up. She wants to take care of her family; she wants to enjoy moments of tranquility and tenderness; she wants to deal with some important, unfinished business and she has a cunning plan to sabotage her neighbour. She has qualities that resonate with me: in particular her love of hens and her joy in writing. She has other qualities that elude me: she has a passion for housework. (I’ve never understood that one!) She learns that there are some things she can exert control over, and there are other things she has to let go.

It made me think: do I have any unfinished business? Do I have regrets? Are there things I should be doing for my husband, children, friends…?

• Unfinished business? I still want to get a book or fifty published, but I’m working on that.
• There’s nothing I can do about regrets, even though I have a few. Sure, there were relationships and incidents in the past that were hurtful, embarrassing and/or unresolved, but they’re in the past, so they’re going in the “let go” basket.
• Things I should be doing for loved ones? The author makes sure her girls know how to cook the perfect boiled egg, how to make a pot of tea… My kids are adults now and seem to have figured those things out; at least, they don’t appear to be starving. I did teach them both how to use a washing machine, so I think my work is done.

I suppose I could be kinder, sweeter, more self-sacrificing, more generous, more… Oh to heck with that. If I changed too dramatically I would no longer be me! My husband, children, grandchildren, wider family and friends already know that I love them. All in all, I feel rather content. I do miss having hens in my garden but that too will have to be placed, regretfully, into the “let go” basket. The Old Boy isn’t a big fan and, besides, The Wonder Dog would probably kill them and think he was doing me a huge favour. (You should see him chase the sparrows, starlings and other avian interlopers in our garden.)

I’m grateful to Ms Adelaide for writing such a delightful, different, out-of-left-field story. I didn’t find it depressing even though there are some very sad moments. I didn’t find it at all gloomy; in fact, it resonates with warmth, love and tenderness.

We all need a very big “let go” basket. When we chuck stuff in there, it’s surprising how freeing it is.