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Quote by Paul Gruchow

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The Necessity of Empty Places

This book delves into the psychological and emotional landscapes of individuals who find solace and meaning in the quietude of empty places. It examines the human condition through the lens of isolation and the spaces that define our existence. more

Author

Paul Gruchow
Paul Gruchow

Paul Gruchow was an American author born on May 23, 1947, and passed away on February 22, 2004. His works are known for their profound insights into nature and life, particularly for his books set in the rural landscape of Minnesota. more

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“Bethel reveals that God is present in every liminal place, lending his anchoring weight to our weightless lives. Our in-between places--between jobs, between cities, between houses--can easily feel like a bookmark, as if their only job was separating past from future. But these places are indeed part of the story, even when we have failed to give them a name... A nameless place can be the site of tentatively taking our first step toward trust; it's at Bethel that we can begin believing in a God, who journeys with us.”

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“Shaggy,” a small voice called. When Bran looked up, his little brother was standing in the mouth of Father’s tomb. With one final snap at Summer’s face, Shaggydog broke off and bounded to Rickon’s side. “You let my father be,” Rickon warned Luwin. “You let him be.” “Rickon,” Bran said softly. “Father’s not here.” “Yes he is. I saw him.” Tears glistened on Rickon’s face. “I saw him last night.” “In your dream . . . ?” Rickon nodded. “You leave him. You leave him be. He’s coming home now, like he promised. He’s coming home.”

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“At home I pulled all my blinds. I said to my Grandmama and Mama this and that. I said to them, You believed in signs. I remember that well. I remembered how my Mama could read the steam coming off a soup kettle. Especially if it had good, fresh marrow in it. And if I didn’t feel good, Grandmama would go out and bring in fistfuls of wild herbs. She’d throw them in broths and read, depending on my ailment. She was half doctor, half priest. I said to her once when I had the croup and she was making me drink something that had grass in it, I said, “Grandmama, are you making me drink magic?” “No baby, this is good ole-fashioned hoodoo.”

HomeMotherFamilyMedicineGrandmotherMagical RealismMatriarchsHoodoo
Book:Sugar Cage
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