Hope Edelman - The Possibility of Everything: A Memoir

Praise for
the
possibility of
everything

Hope Edelman possesses a voice that embeds itself in your mind.

USA Today

Edelman writes eloquently about her struggle. With vivid descriptions of Belize and its Mayan history, The Possibility of Everything is an intimate account of the struggles of parenting, partnering and faith.

People

The Possibility of Everything is a well-crafted tale of skepticism versus spirituality. Edelmans writing soars highest when depicting her familys eye-opening encounters in the humid tropical jungle withjust possiblythe supernatural.

Entertainment Weekly

Part mystery, part travelogue, part memoir, the book explores the gaps between science and faith, children and parents, and what we believe and what we wish for.

Redbook

Gripping and vividly detailed The book is equal parts a meditation on the trials of motherhood and marriage, a travelogue and an exploration of faith, which [Edelman] braids together into a highly readable, insight-laden narrative.

Publishers Weekly

The Possibility of Everything returns to [Edelmans] theme of mothers and daughters, place and purpose, and chronicles a profound spiritual awakening.

The Malibu Times

The true beauty of this bookand there is so much that is beautiful is that Edelman relentlessly dissects her own perspectives and feelings with an uncommon courage.

The Oregonian

The book stands as a rich example of memoir writing, much as her previous book, Motherless Daughters, did.

Albuquerque Journal

On a family trip to Belize, Hope Edelman confronts the very heart of darkness only to be ambushed by the healing hope of things unseen. Edelman writes like a dream and like a dreamer, with a novelists rhythm and a journalists unsparing eye. The Possibility of Everything kept me gasping and turning pages, awed by Edelmans unwillingness to compromise the truth. This book makes everything seem possibleexcept putting it down.

J ACQUELYN M ITCHARD , author of The Deep End of the Ocean (#1 New York Times bestseller and Oprah Book Club pick)

From its gripping opening to its moving conclusion, The Possibility of Everything takes you on a spirited journey that gracefully interweaves details of early motherhood with reflections on faith and transformation, all set against the beauty and wonder of a foreign place. A thoughtful and compelling read by the accomplished Hope Edelman.

C ATHI H ANAUER , author of Sweet Ruin and editor of The Bitch in the House

To write memoir well, one must surrender fear and reveal all dimensions of the inner truthfrom gorgeous to heinous and what lies in between. In search of faith she can wrap her arms around, Edelman set down fear and has revealed all of herself with beauty and candor, innocence and intelligence, wisdom and clarity. In this fascinating and honest account of one womans quest for wholeness and healing for her daughter, herself, and her family, Edelman gives us hope.

J ENNIFER L AUCK , author of Still Waters and Blackbird: A Childhood Lost and Found

Ask any mother: there isnt any role that so consistently demands of us what we know we dont have. Enough patience, enough wisdom, enough energy and grace. The ability to discern between what we can fix and what we cant. Hope Edelman takes her readers on the kind of journey every mother will makeinto hope over reason, faith without understanding. Motherless Daughters gave us what no other book didhonesty and solace and companionshipfrom someone whod been there, too. Readers will say the same of The Possibility of Everything.

K ATHRYN H ARRISON , author of The Kiss

A LSO BY H OPE E DELMAN

Motherless Daughters

Letters from Motherless Daughters

Mother of My Mother

Motherless Mothers

For Uzi

My husband, my partner,
my prince

this is freedom. This is the force of faith. Nobody gets what they want. Never again are you the same. The longing is to be pure. What you get is to be changed.
J ORIE G RAHAM

You cannot solve problems with the same level of consciousness that created them.
A LBERT E INSTEIN

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten

chapter eleven

chapter twelve

chapter thirteen

A ragged dirt road twists through six miles of rain forest in western Belize, linking the villages of Cristo Rey and San Antonio. If you make this drive the day after a heavy December rain, as my husband, Uzi, and I do, the road will still be gluey and ripe. Its surface will be the color and consistency of mango pudding. You might focus intensely on these two elements, mango and pudding, to divert your attention from how the white van youre riding in keeps sashaying across the slippery road. And you might look down at the three-year-old lying across your lap and think about how she is a child who loves mangoes and loves pudding but that you have never thought to put the two together for her before. You might look at her and think, Mango pudding! Great idea! Lets find a way to make some tonight! Or you might think, If youll be okay, Ill make you mango pudding every night for the rest of your life. Or you might look down at her and just think, Please, and leave it at that.

Victor, our driver for this ride, maneuvers the eleven-seat passenger van with more skill and less caution than I could safely manage. Hee-yah! he calls out as he deftly steers us out of a skid. Every time the vans back end fishtails, I spring for the door handle. I dont know what Im thinking: grabbing the door handle in an unlocked car is only going to result in an open door on a muddy road, but when youre ricocheting around in the back of a van without seat belts, with a sick child lying across your thighs, the impulse is to lunge for something solid.

I tighten my right arm around my daughter Mayas waist. Everythings fine, I tell myself. Shes going to be fine. I press my left hand against the window and watch the landscape stream by between my fingertips. The jungle grows flush against both sides of the road, tangled and pristine. The bulldozers of American expatriates chewing up the Caribbean coast havent found their way back here yet. Fat, squat cohune palms burst up from ground level like Las Vegas fountains spraying out of the forest floor. Thick, serpentine vines encircle tree trunks like lush maypole ribbons. The biodiversity here is astounding. I never imagined there could be so many different kinds of leaves in one place, or so many shades of green.

The air outside is like nothing Ive encountered before: energetic and molecular and intense. A few hours ago, when we were sitting on the front steps of our cabana at Victors resort, I took in deep gulps of the jungles bright, wet promise, the loamy, rich animation of the dirt marrying with chlorophyll to form air so dense it tempts you to take a bite.