Thursday, January 7, 2016

See You in the Morning

January 7, 2016

On tops of mountains as everywhere to hopeful souls, 
it is always morning.
Henry David Thoreau

See You in the Morning, the final book in Pamela S. Williams' first published trilogy, is now available online through Amazon.com or Deseret Book. This book has been reviewed as by far the best of the three.

The following was saved on her computer regarding See You in the Morning:


Told in first person through his memories, and in third person as he reads her journal, See You in the Morning is the story of two people experiencing love and marriage for the first time in their late thirties. It’s a different experience than for those who come to it at age twenty. As their story unfolds with honesty and humor, we learn how John Marchbanks and Lainie McGuire deal with the risk of having children, her adjustment to motherhood, his career and Church leadership opportunities, his Catholic family, her business partnership, their challenges as parents, and their deep and growing love for each other. As events unfold to reveal their successes and failures, themes of integrity and fidelity emerge, and life becomes a celebration of the eternal nature of marriage and the joys of being alive.

The final chapter in my mother's trilogy arose as she went down. She declined in health very quickly and yet, she still took time to listen as her children read to her the support of her Friends through cards, Facebook, an e-mails. She'd often take my hand and point to the picture of her book club members that sat at the side of her bed and and say, "Aren't they all so wonderful?" The support and friendships she had are now cherished in the eternities. She was always a hopeful and positive person. Look to the mountain tops and take hold of that hope, that light. The morning will come and we will all have eyes to see.

Searching through my mother's computer to find words brings me some degree of inadequacy. She placed them together so artfully, deliberately, and with music in her soul. These books, and all of her unpublished writing are a glimpse into her art; her use of tones, texture, and variation in the ether. To be given the responsibility of looking after them, to me, is much like the responsibility I imagine a curator has. Yet, these works are not to be kept to gather dust. I do find some courage in my mother's confidence. I hope to post a few of her short works from time to time so we may all appreciate them as they were meant to be appreciated.

Jordan G. Williams
Pam's Son