Like Trees Walking: In the Second Half of Life

Jane Sigloh
Cowley Publications (2007)
ISBN 9781561012909
Reviewed by Mark A. Raborn for Reader Views (7/07)


Have you ever read a book that left you feeling that your life is better as a result? For me, it’s rare to read a work that is truly life-changing to the point that I think everyone I know should read it, but Jane Sigloh’s “Like Trees Walking: In the Second Half of Life” is exactly that. Her writing is so conspicuously intimate…so rich with meaning and wisdom that I kept asking myself, “Why am I only now learning about this author?”

“Like Trees Walking” is a series of short stories that capture and crisply relate the deep beauty of the second half of life. Her writing is nothing less than superb and her ability to communicate the subtle wonders of graceful aging is masterful. Sigloh conveys depth of meaning from some of life’s most ordinary events, like her youthful observations of her grandfather’s hands:

“My grandfather’s hands were old and soft and thin. I would often inspect them when we were at the dining room table. He’d be talking to the family about banks and loans and stuff, and I would sit next to him and try to push down the swollen veins that trailed from his wrists. They popped right back up again. I also tried to wipe away the nicotine stains between his fingers but that didn’t work either.

Yet veins and stains notwithstanding, my grandfather’s hands were good friends. When I was learning how to tie shoes, he wrapped them around my own and guided my fingers through the complexities of lacing. And, best of all, every day he and I went on a morning walk, hand in hand. Judge, the Chesapeake Bay retriever, went with us.

My grandfather called this his ‘constitutional.’ I never understood why he called it that…but the constitutional was always the same. He would strike out in long determined strides, gripping my hand in his own as if he were afraid if losing me…Finally, we arrived at the railroad crossing. That was our destination. I’d put my ear down next to the steel track to see if I could hear a train coming, and my grandfather would take out his pocket watch to check the time. We threw out sticks for Judge to fetch, and then we walked home, hand in hand. There was always a cup of tea waiting for us, and an orange, cut so that the sections fell into the dish like a flower. That’s what a constitutional was all about.

When my grandfather died, they crossed his hands over his chest. It rained that day. It rained a lot. Now I am almost his age, musing about silly things like hands. But I think I have a better understanding of what a constitutional is all about. As a child, I thought it was solely to entertain me and the dog, but it was more than that. A constitutional shook the tension out of my grandfather’s bones. It got the blood circulating, made necessary adjustments to his attitude.”

From life topics as simple as watching a lunar eclipse with her young grandson, to learning to fly-fish, to searching for a “walkman” in New York City, Sigloh offers wisdom that transcends the angst of graceful aging and reminds one of the real joys of life that are so easy to miss. Each story reveals something about herself, and about the reader.

I recommend “Like Trees Walking” as one of the best books I’ve ever read. It’s a literary treasure that is uplifting and encouraging…and edifying and I think many of the people I know would be blessed to read it.

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