Where Reasons End

How are you today? I said. It was an inane question but I was too sad to look for a better opening.Why don't people start a conversation by saying, Who are you today? Nikolai said. How anyone is matters less than who he is, don't you think?Who are you, I said. It sounds intrusive, does it not? How are you—is it less intrusive? If someone does want to know the answer it's intrusive too.Who are you? I went over the question in my head. I suppose people would have a harder time saying who they are, truly, I said. Or there are so many possibilities it's hard to give one and neglect the other twenty.When you see a tree, do you say, How are you today? Mediocre, the tree may think, because it's a windy day. But it's obliged to reply, I'm good, thank you, and you? No, when you see a tree you think, Here is a tree.People are more complex than trees, I said.We think we are, he said. So, who are you today?I'm your mother.

A book about an imagined conversation between a mother and her son lost to suicide. I liked some parts of this, but mostly this didn't really move me, which I feel bad about, knowing that the author herself actually experienced losing her son this way :(