Occasionally one discovers a book that begs to be read a second time, in hopes of discovering deeper subtleties. Such is the case with this Wangerin family memoir. Walter --- a Lutheran pastor-turned-professor and much acclaimed writer of fiction and nonfiction --- starts the book with a Christmas gathering at which he tells the now-grown family of his advanced lung cancer. So the sobering mortality of a man in his early 60s underlies the rest of the story: his complicated relationship with his younger son, Matt --- biracial and adopted as an infant.

The back of the book calls Matt “spirited,” which was obvious from the beginning --- a baby who bellowed, a boy obsessed with action heroes (“the Six Millions Dollars Man”), climbing fences, accosting his older brother, stealing comic books. As a teen he set his sights on Hoosier “hoop dreams,” convinced that his basketball skill could and would secure his future and his freedom, presumably from his parents’ expectations and restrictions and curfews. In college, Matt started drinking; his life fell apart. Out of college, things went from bad to worse. With good reason and with plenty of warning, Walt one day ushered him out of the house. You’re on your own, kid.

In his writing Father Wangerin is working through layers of guilt, second-guessing himself, wondering what he could have done differently. It is the bane of any human parent with a sensitive spirit and a stumbling child. In some chapters he muses about the fatherhood of God, but on first reading I didn’t see that as the real story. It’s about generational tensions and reconciliations; about justice and injustice (in this case, complicated by cultural racial disparities); about the love and anger and hopes of the young; about the differently displayed love and anger and hopes of the old. And tucked in there are questions about our nation’s hard-driving obsession with sports.

What makes this book interesting is that the last quarter is written by Matt, who gives his own account of his childhood and journey to “freedom.” (At age 36, he seems to be on steady ground. The back of the book says that Matt “has dedicated himself to encouraging others to avoid life’s pitfalls.”)

Though father and son had agreed on a theme and book title, they worked independently, without comparing notes. In his chapters Matt highlights different days. He doesn’t even mention Walt’s central scenes. Any blame directed toward his father seems to be for Walt’s kindly virtue, not for his perceived faults. Matt’s short last chapter is titled “Freedom.” The critical paragraph is about himself and the self-destructive choices he made. The final line is “I…found the freedom I was yearning for.”

By the end of the book it’s obvious that Father Walt is also free --- to look forward in peace, not backward in doubt.

Even though I have no sons, I look forward to reading this a second time.

    -