A jacket blurb suggests that Deliver Me ought to be on the table beside the reading lamp, ready to pick up and enjoy piece by lovely piece. Surely that’s so. But I read it in one sitting, compelled by the powerful, authentic voices heard in the collection’s essays, poems and stories. The authors write with wit, warmth and wisdom about negotiating the tricky curves and blind corners of the bumpy mother-road.

We flinch (and, I admit, try not to laugh out loud) as a young woman’s expectation of childbirth as a warm soak, guided imagery and grateful acceptance of soul-enriching suffering collides with a somewhat different reality . We hear of the secondary benefits of culinary disaster, the delight of an unexpected suitor, the pulse-pounding, brain-shrieking terror of searching for a missing toddler, the sweet savor of a granddaughter’s fleeting closeness, the special circumstances of a stepmother’s love and loss, the precious textures, scents and wondrous words of tiny boys at bedtime. Guided by a young girl whose childhood takes an unexpected, wrenching turn, we journey back to a day when death meant a good supply of ice and the whiskey-fueled keening of an Irish wake.

We feel the guilt of wanting more, of resenting the loss of one’s self to the demands of family, while grasping for the “should” of gratitude and contentment.

Editor/author Diamond and her fellow contributors have produced a collection that enlightens and inspires, evoking tears, laughter and, most of all, the YES of recognition.

At this moment, I can’t think of a book I’d rather share.

This book is true to it's word. It really and surprisingly and delightfully and head noddingly is true. We mothers and grandmothers can really relate. Congrats to Laura Diamond and the rest of these talented and honest authors! Joyce