I came across the book Moon Road by Sarah Leipciger while browsing Instagram a few weeks ago. When Moon Road appeared on my feed, I was immediately captivated by the artwork on the cover. The hues of blue offered a sense of calm and calamity simultaneously, and at that moment, I knew I had to read this book.
Moon Road is a descriptive and emotional book that focuses on an estranged divorced couple, Kathleen and Yannick, whose daughter, Una, went missing 20 years ago. The circumstances surrounding Una’s disappearance remain unknown. However, after the recent discovery of recovered bones on the outskirts of British Columbia, the RCMP contact Yannick to see if he and his ex-wife can travel there for DNA testing and forensic analysis. However, Yannick and Kathleen have not spoken for almost 20 years.
It takes convincing, but the two eventually road trip from Ontario to Tofino. For Yannick, seeing the bones and doing the DNA test was a rare window to an exit that might help him relieve some of the guilt he had been holding onto. Essentially, it was an opportunity for him to bring Una home—an opportunity for closure. On the other hand, though challenging for Kathleen, it meant that her daughter was no longer alive if the DNA was conclusive.
As the pair set out on their road trip in Canada’s backyard, they reminisce about their past, the time in between with Una and the time lost in the storm of Una’s vanishing. Throughout, we see little snippets leading up to Una’s disappearance. Together, Yannick and Kathleen reflect on their family life while unravelling aching memories and touching moments. Despite the hardships and the tumultuous times, in retrospect, moments of underlying tenderness, love and forgiveness were always there.
One of the reasons I enjoyed reading Moon Road was how reflective and moving the book was. Aside from the intricate character developments, you can also feel their grief and the intensity of raw emotions—how painful and devastating it must feel to lose someone you love and lose yourself in the process of sorrow, too. In the end, all I felt towards Kathleen and Yannick was compassion. After all, we are only human.
Relationships are complicated, whether with your spouse, children, friends or even neighbours. As I reflect while writing this article, I see how we often take them for granted, especially those we love deeply and fight passionately with the most. I also know that we take our time for granted—all those mundane and forgettable moments that add up and make our lives. If you can take away one thing from this article, I wish you to dwell presently in the moment. And during your painful, loneliest moments, I hope you will be kind and gentle to each other and most importantly, to yourselves.