Ruth Erskine's Son

Ruth Erskine Burnham has already weathered grief, and now faces a different kind of loss: the slow, necessary letting go of her son. Erskine is leaving her side for college, for society, for a life she can no longer protect him from. The novel opens in quiet intimacy - a autumn evening, Erskine at the piano, Ruth watching her boy who is rapidly becoming a man - and builds into something deeper and more tender. As Erskine navigates the pressures of the outside world, Ruth's anxieties mount. She sees dangers he cannot, feels the distance opening between them even as her love intensifies. The story captures the particular ache of motherhood: the impossible wish to hold on while knowing release is the very essence of love. It is a meditation on memory, on what we carry from our pasts into our children's futures, and on the faith required to trust that the world will be kind to what we cherish most.