Author: Caitlin Coxon

Curly hair and lipstick.

Cathy Rentzenbrink’s The Last Act of Love: Excerpt #2

We were shown to a little room with a table and chairs, a kettle and an ashtray, and drank tea for what felt like hours and hours. I noticed a Guinness stain on the bottom edge of my cream shirt, knew that it would have happened as I’d leaned over the pump at work earlier, and thought how much the world had changed in the lifetime of that little stain.

— Cathy Rentzenbrink, The Last Act of Love (2015), p. 21.

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Cathy Rentzenbrink’s The Last Act of Love: Excerpt #1

The years collapse, and I see myself kneeling and crying and begging, with my hands clasped together in prayer, talking to some unknown force.

Please don’t let him die, please don’t let him die, please, I’ll do anything, only please don’t let him die.

What strikes me now as it never has before is that I can’t say my prayers went unanswered. I was given what I asked for. My brother did not die. But I did not know then that I was praying for the wrong thing.

— Cathy Rentzenbrink, The Last Act of Love (2015), p. 3.

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