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In Remembering Alexis, Margaret Rhyne speaks with a wise and direct voice. Her book is an honest assessment of her relationship with her first daughter Alexis - born without the capability to ever help herself, feed herself, or speak. In this memoir, Margaret unflinchingly reports both her family struggles and her loving and vigilant care for Alexis from her birth until her death at age 29 in January 2005.
As readers, we stand witness to a young married couple anticipating the birth of their first child; and we watch as, not long after the birth of a second and healthy daughter, time and circumstances cause the shaping and reshaping of family structures, as marriages end, as Alexis' sister must realign her life, as parents die, as careers change, and as Alexis remains central to Rhyne's heart. The book is a study of survival of an intuitive and loving mother who, in the face of bureaucratic and familial issues, works to safeguard the human dignity of her child.
In an intriguing way, Rhyne's narrative expands from memoir to philosophical meditation. Out of the personal tale comes a parable filled with images and with universal questions as to how we, as human beings, must protect the vulnerable and helpless among us, how we need to respond to the Other who requires our aid, and how we must administer to the child who grows and, yet, remains an infant.
Given the often bleak and unknowable circumstances in the world, Rhyne demonstrates that, first, we must be strong enough to sort our way through dark moments inside our own Self, seeking to preserve and to encourage that sensitive part of our own psyche that needs our care lest it harden and we look away from need.
This author is a kind of model. Independent-minded even in her grief, honest in her quest for answers, and open to admitting to her mistakes, she is a creative advocate who is tireless in her drive to give Alexis a home at home where she can have the attention she deserves.
In the end, we come to understand the wider vision of this well-written and poignant book because Rhyne's story reminds us of the contract we have as human beings, the human contract directing us to love and to serve something larger than the ego. Even upon Alexis' death, Rhyne's intuitive instincts allow her to sense Alexis' presence, to read the signs she knows Alexis is sending to tell her that death ends a life, but never a relationship. Here, in print, is the contract between Alexis and her mother, a memoir meant to suggest that, as the poet Philip Larkin said, "what will remain of us is love."
Carol Samson, Ph.D.
Lecturer, University Writing Program
University of Denver
A life of eventless amusement has made me a bit of a coward. It's also made me a hardened cynic, so I'm certainly not the audience that Margaret Marshall Rhyne had in mind when she published Remembering Alexis. But, after reading it, I'd like to think that I'm perhaps the best audience for it, taking away a piece of Margaret's strength and verve for life that she earns through a life of trial.
Her memoir, though largely a reflection of her twenty-nine year motherhood to her handicapped daughter, Alexis, is really about so much more than that. Dealing with her daughter's condition becomes symbolic of dealing with a life where your greatest love is also your most heavy burden. Witnessing Margaret's growth from a naive girl to a seasoned veteran of hardship is likewise as uplifting as it is sad.
Remembering Alexis unfolds like an onion, revealing layer after layer of hardship. From stiff parenting to manipulative lovers, Margaret is jostled from tragic event to tragic event up to and including the birth of Alexis, who fits that same paradigm, being both tragic as well as miraculous. Her handicap is unexplainable and renders her undeveloped beyond a few months of age for the duration of her life. Alll but abandoned by the birth father, Alexis and Margaret lead a life of forced humility, asking favors from friends and relatives. Ultimately things come together for both of them in a way that makes you want to crow for joy at long last, only to be hit by her child's inevitable, and just as unexplainable, death.
This book will make you cry until your tear ducts burst, then cry some more, but it's worth every page of it. Margaret handles the material with skill, keeping the narrative from rambling with short succinct chapters, and developing an arc to her life that eventually leads to a satisfactory outcome. This is particularly difficult with memoirs since they usually end up sounding like journals, but Margaret has a special story to tell and takes the necessary care in telling it.
One could make many Freudian arguments concerning where the heart of the book lies from a literary point of view. Is the author's central condition with her faith, her parents, her perceived inability to love, or is it with Alexis herself, and the mystery of her condition which forces Margaret to live on the tip of a knife. Any day, Alexis could mysteriously show signs of improvement or she could mysteriously die for no apparent reason. What Margaret clings to throughout is her love for Alexis, which turns out to be the only thing in her life that's worth clinging to, and a fertile foundation on which to build. Even me, a hardened cynic, can see the miracle in that. And that's what makes Remembering Alexis such a wonderful story, and an absolute gem of a memoir.
Eric Jones, BookReview.com
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