Little Altars Everywhere

Little Altars Everywhere: A Novel

When my baby was born, my husband bought me this book to occupy myself during the boring hours of the hospital stay. He knew how much of a fan I am of Rebecca Wells' Ya-Ya books. As it turns out, I didn't have time to read it. It was only this month that I finally cracked the binding. Yesterday, a mere two weeks after starting to read bits and pieces when I could, I closed the back cover and was finished. Fiction isn't usually my choice but once in a while there is an authour who makes me care about her characters and brings a story that touches me. Wells has managed such a thing with her group of Ya-Ya's in Thornton, LA.

As the third novel in the series, Little Altars Everywhere branched further into the Ya-Ya's and fellow Thornton denizens. We jumped from timeline to timeline and came parallel to stories we've read before, but now from a different perspective. We got to know the Petite Ya-Ya's as adults in a way that previous books just didn't have the space to give us, and are introduced to the Tres Petites, the grandchildren of the original four wild queens.

It's what my husband would most definitely label "a chick book" as it does focus on the inner strength of women, feelings and relationships, but I believe it's more than my reproductive organs and gender identity that connects with

Tom, Mike and Ed down in the water

this series. We all have families and time marches on, with or without us, whether we pay attention or not. The serene carribean ocean is vast just as the baby is growing. Both forces are just too big to stop. That can be comforting, but it can also be alarming if you realise how many moments you've already missed because something little, something that's altogether trivial, was more important. How much time is spent building the safety net of family, where brothers and sisters rely on each other? I have no connection to my brothers and sisters and, at this point in my life, I don't feel like I'm missing anything. I do wish they were different people so that I could feel bad for not having a stronger net, but

Tommy at Englewood Beach

as they are, I don't have much confidence in any of them. The ship has sailed, so they say. For my children, the emphasis on family is a strong one. They have an opportunity to grow together and support one another, accepting and forgiving as family ought to do. They have an opportunity to be better people. I believe they already are better people, in spite of all the negative influences. I watch my older sons wade their way into the Gulf, swimming on their own but staying close enough to each other, and I see their baby brother keeping a watch on them from the beach. While the oldest is still a bossy first-born, the middle still cries foul, the daughter still steals the limelight and the baby still gets his way, I see an acceptance and happiness they have in each other that can't be duplicated anywhere else. It sustains them when they're away from each other and helps them to find the joy in life anywhere they are. They have the security of knowing they will always be there for each other. That love and support will always be there.

Bailey

It's inspiration to have more good times. Is inspiration needed for such a thing? Sometimes it is. I have an occassional desire to cocoon, one which is self-destructive since I'm extroverted and need positive interaction with people to feel energised. Bumps in the roads break my stride and I begin to feel unsure, so I slow down, stop, or withdraw. When the safety net that my friends have become give me the kick in the butt I need, whether they realised they've done it or not, I'm back moving again. If I were to trust and rely on them consistently, I'd never cocoon. It's their support and honesty that has pushed me forward and lent me confidence on many things that I never would have had otherwise. It also helps that they're smarter than me and know what they're talking about.

A lot of us move around in our lifetimes and begin new chapters to our lives in places we've never been before. We have friends that we have to email or call long-distance instead of meet for a coffee or a beer in the evening. A lot of us are thousands of miles away from the trees we climbed as children or the places we parked as teenagers. But an "altar" is about more than a physical manifestation of a memory. It's the representation of that memory and what that memory means to us. It's a representation of the happiness, strength and security. There are little altars everywhere, not just in Thornton, LA with a fictional bunch of women and their fictional children. We all have our own altars that we treasure going back to, when we take the time to remember what means the most to us.

From Jennifer: Michael and Bailey

"From Jennifer: Michael and Bailey" photo courtesy of Jennifer Bensley, taken 2001 in Romeoville, Illinois.