“We’re stacking emotion on emotion like a block tower nearing collapse.”

Lillian’s description of the early days of her relationship with Ryan as one in which they continue to pile their emotions together foreshadows their trajectory: The simile compares these emotions to blocks building a tower, but Damoff subverts the imagery of a tower by highlighting its precariousness rather than its strength. The emotions that they pile on, both love and sadness, add both weight and instability to their relationship, threatening it.

“When my eyes drift up from my food to my husband’s face, I stop smiling. He’s seated again, shadowy thoughts across his face.”

One aspect of Ryan and Lillian’s relationship that is often explored throughout the novel is their ability to intuitively understand each other. Both experience trauma and have dark pasts, making it easier for them to recognize when the other is hurting. In this instance, Lillian recognizes that Ryan is upset because of the look on his face, described as “shadowy,” suggesting something looming over him, casting that shadow, representative of the ever-present nature of his trauma.

“I nodded downward, thinking about what actually was inside myself. My nausea multiplied, every sweet nothing turned sour. And I swallowed my news back down to the pit of my stomach, where it grew and grew and grew.”

The description of Lillian’s reaction when she discovers she is pregnant helps elucidate her conflicted feelings over growing her family. Although this moment could be one of joy, for Lillian, her past affects the present, and her nerves get the better of her. She feels the pressure of this development viscerally in her stomach, and the word choice describing the unstoppable growth of the child hints at Lillian’s discomfort at not feeling in control.

“‘Well, you’re one to talk.’ The bottle pauses at his lips before he tilts it back and swallows two, three, four times as if emphasizing gulp by gulp that he has no regret. The swallows land like slaps.”

As Ryan begins to drink, Lillian approaches the subject warily, not wanting to make the situation worse. When Ryan begins arguing with her and using his drinking to make a statement, Lillian begins to experience Ryan’s drinking as abuse, reflected by her receiving them with the physicality of “slaps.” This image of violence ties into Ryan’s own perception of Barton’s drinking being related to the abuse he and his mother experienced.

“Somehow, they’ll start preschool this fall. Shauna and I are beside ourselves. I don’t remember when Jet crawled for the last time or when I changed her last diaper. One day, it had already happened. Now she sprints and uses the toilet and has long, tangly hair and talks as fast as an auctioneer.”

At various times throughout the novel, different characters reflect on the ongoing nature of time and their inability to control it or slow it down. In this case, that sense is framed through the rapid growth of children, and Damoff uses Jet’s rapid growth as a way for Lillian to reflect on her life. She feels discombobulated, thinking of all the milestones that have already passed, and how her identity as a mother transforms over time.

“It strikes me that somehow Disney is fashioning the marriage story in her mind rather than her own parents, who definitely didn’t ‘stay together forever.’”

A major concern for Lillian in the novel is the impact her relationship with Ryan will have on Jet, not only as their child but as a future adult with her own romantic relationships. She understands that the standard she and Ryan set as lovers is unhealthy, but she is relieved when a young Jet seems to picture her future with Kendi as one based on common interests and support. This excerpt amplifies the notion that Jet finds family, comfort, and positive examples in the people and media around her.

“All I can think to tell her is, ‘They shouldn’t have died like that. Sometimes grown-ups forget to think about how our choices impact children.’”

Lillian is speaking about the Branch Davidians in Waco, but her words also relate to Ryan’s behavior as a father and his treatment of Jet. Lillian worries that his behavior and neglect of Jet will negatively impact their daughter, causing pain and trauma similar to what Barton inflicted upon Ryan. It also reflects her own perception of Ryan’s addiction at this point in the novel: She believes that he does not consider her or Jet when he chooses to drink, though Ryan insists that he does.

“Shauna and I find a bench and discuss the latest news out of school, work, Rwanda. How strange that rays from the same sun fall on the Hutus and Tutsis and violence as fall on us and the dog and the giggle-thrown Frisbee.”

Throughout The Bright Years, Damoff includes references to historical events relevant to the time period. In this instance, she uses the Rwandan genocide to situate Shauna and Lillian’s experience within a greater, global context. Lillian not only thinks of the atrocities happening but makes that connection palpable by thinking of how the sun that shines on her and Jet, both happy in this moment, falls on those suffering. This helps her to contextualize her own pain and trauma, juxtaposed against the good in her life.

“I step closer to Barton, whisper, ‘Nice to meet you,’ and touch the lifeless hand that so often lashed out at the woman who tried to love him, Barton the Boy who was probably beaten by his own father. Barton The Man who never made peace with Barton The Boy. And now Barton The Body. Sunken cheeks and Ryan’s nose. Jet’s.”

The primary way in which Lillian perceives addiction in those around her is by separating them into different versions of themselves. By separating them from the addiction, she achieves greater empathy for their suffering. In this case, as she “meets” Barton for the first time, though he is dead, she thinks of the different versions of Barton, which she highlights by effectively titling them through capitalization as “Barton The Man” and “Barton The Boy”: the young, innocent Barton, who may have been abused himself, and the adult Barton, who passed that pain on.

“When she said yes, Michael hugged them on their knees on the picnic blanket, and then they ate peanut butter cookies while Shauna admired her ring and cried the tears of a woman who has done this before—love and anticipation alongside relief, redemption, memory, fear. A second marriage requires more bravery than a first.”

Lillian and Shauna are connected by their shared experiences in love, losing their husbands, one to death and the other to alcohol addiction. Lillian knows that this can cause a range of emotions simultaneously, and when Shauna becomes engaged, she sees this reflected in her friend. Shauna looks happily towards a future with Michael while mourning her first husband in the past. Lillian sees Shauna as brave for pursuing this future despite the risks and the pain of the past, particularly because they are both familiar with how painful love can be.

“When she says nothing else, I stand and go load dishes into the dishwasher, still exactly the way my mother did. It’s funny what gets ingrained, like which way plates should face.”

The ways in which parents pass down trauma to their children is a fundamental aspect of The Bright Years, yet it is not the only way in which Damoff explores the relationships between parents and their children. She also includes the mundane ways in which parents’ legacies persist. In this moment, Lillian catches herself loading the dishwasher like her mother did and muses about how something so simple can stay with her. The use of this everyday action highlights the more subtle legacies that parents leave their children.

“He won’t talk about her, is the problem. He talks about anything and everything else. Nana says there’s an elephant stampede in every room he enters, but he denies that he’s getting trampled.”

When Lillian dies, Jet feels alone in her grief because she feels as though she has lost both parents, as Ryan returns to misusing alcohol. He refuses to talk about Lillian, and Elise alludes to the metaphor of “the elephant in the room” to capture the damage his unexpressed feelings do to those around him. Without expressing his feelings or connecting with Jet, Ryan lets the grief crush him, and his denial also keeps him from supporting Jet.

“Despite my affection—and relief when she doesn’t prod me to talk about Mom or Kendi or even Dad—when she calls me again the month after Kincaid’s, I make an excuse. And the next month. And the next. She’s a wave in an ocean of reminders, and I am quietly drowning.”

Jet avoids people after her mother dies, not wanting to be around Kendi and Shauna because of the memories they elicit. Damoff uses a simile to describe how Jet feels when she spends time with Shauna, as if a wave of memories is drowning her. This use of figurative language evokes the image of suffocation, aptly matching Jet’s feelings that she cannot escape the memories of Lillian, which in turn only amplifies her own pain.

“We walk to my car, and I don’t tell her that I disagree. That I hear her relief, but I would never say good riddance. I’d say, This is you too and Don’t forget any of it and I see you and Tell me everything.”

As Jet and Kendi begin to rekindle their friendship, Jet feels her empathy for her friend expand. When she visits Shauna and learns of how Kendi struggled after Lillian’s death, she wants to hear more and cherish that part of Kendi. Shauna is happy that he overcame this phase, but Jet wants him to acknowledge and share it because it is a part of him, just as her own grief for Lillian is a part of her.

“I feel sheltered by Kendi and our tent and this perfect trip. I hug him long. His presence on the night of Mom’s death used to feel like a betrayal, but now it feels like a gift. Time can wash dirt off a memory until it is revealed as something else entirely.”

For years after Lillian’s death, Jet blames Kendi, her perspective on his pain narrowed by her own grief. As an adult, however, she matures and comes to realize that Kendi grieves as well. Now, his time with Lillian on that final night brings her joy and helps revitalize their connection. Again, Damoff uses figurative language to make Jet’s emotions more palpable: In this excerpt, she compares this shift in Jet’s feelings towards Kendi to dirt washing away, clearing her memory. Time does not heal, but it can change perspective, and in this case, bring comfort.

“A memory surfaces: I was small, sitting on our brown plaid couch as she read me book after book. Her voice suddenly got funny, and I looked up to see that her eyes were wet. I got alarmed, but she blamed allergies. The book in her hand was P.D. Eastman’s Are You My Mother?”

Once Jet learns about Davis and realizes that Lillian kept her first pregnancy a secret, she looks back on her memories of her mother and reevaluates them. She realizes that there were signs of her mother’s secret grief, and while Jet was oblivious, Lillian was struggling with the weight of this secret. Damoff captures Lillian’s deep emotions in the memory Jet has of Lillian reading Are You My Mother, showing how the simple words of a children’s book impact Lillian.

“Eight years have passed, and time is no healer. A mother stays even when she’s gone, like a muted moon in the daytime sky. And the existence of Davis warps everything. You’d think being upset with Mom might appease my grief, but it compounds it.”

Jet’s greatest struggle in The Bright Years is her persistent grief for Lillian. She sees her mother everywhere, and the memories make it difficult for her to feel as though she can heal. In this excerpt, she uses the metaphor of a daytime moon. It evokes the image of a dull moon in a light blue sky, its light too weak to outmatch the sun. Despite this, the moon is there, even if it only appears as a less powerful version of itself. This is how Jet feels about Lillian’s legacy: She can feel Lillian constantly, even though she is gone.

“I could never set myself up for that loss. And I definitely couldn’t set Kendi up for it. Is this how Dad felt when he left? Like it was the best of bad options? Like he had to choose one pain to prevent another?”

During Part 2, Jet begins to gain a greater understanding of her father as she reaches adulthood. With the complications of love, she feels anxiety and wonders if this is what Ryan felt when he made similar life decisions. Jet, who distrusts love, sees the options of being with Kendi and not being with Kendi as equally painful experiences. By connecting these thoughts to Ryan, she exhibits a new maturity that allows her to better connect with him.

“I need to show her my ring. I need her to help me find a dress, to say she loves the ones I hate and hates the ones I love. I need to argue with her about the menu. I need her to help with my makeup but not my hair. I need to beg for her silence when she tries to tell embarrassing stories about her own honeymoon. I need to tell her how different Kendi is from Dad.”

Jet’s pain over the loss of Lillian is not merely because of the past she lost with Lillian but also because of the future that they will never experience together. When Kendi and Jet are engaged, Jet thinks of how deeply she wants Lillian to go through this experience with her—the depth of her longing is illustrated by how she even misses the potential arguments they might have over dresses and hair. She also wants to talk to Lillian, to reassure her that she is making healthy and smart decisions about her love life and, in the process, reassure herself.

“Her heart is buried in the darkness of the earth, but it is also buried in the darkness of my body. Everyone says ‘gone but not forgotten,’ though it’s ultimately the other way around: generation later, a mother is forgotten but not gone, a pulse in the bodies birthed from her love.”

In keeping with the novel’s attention to how parents influence their children, Jet thinks of how Lillian lives on in her and future generations. She uses the metaphor of Lillian’s heart “deeply buried” in her body to push back against the idea that buried means forgotten; instead, to her, it represents how deeply Lillian continues to affect her and will affect generations to come.

“How can her feet dance so gracefully when she only just took her first steps? I missed them, of course, those first steps. But I do remember that the whole process infuriated her, her ruffled bottom plopping onto hard ground over and over.”

In Part 3, as Ryan and Jet reconcile, Ryan has a moment that echoes Lillian’s reflection in Part 1 on the passage of time. He dances with Jet at her wedding and thinks of how it is impossible that he saw her take her first steps, collapsing the time elapsed between the two events. This evokes thoughts of not only how Jet changes over time but also how much time passes in Ryan’s life. Most importantly, the moment instills pride in Ryan, as he remembers how Jet refused to stay down when learning to walk, falling “over and over.” He tenacity helps her to overcome so much pain in her life.

“I look at my girls. My steady hands. And I ignore the warning that slithers like a worm through my gut.”

Chapter 41 returns to Ryan’s past, when he was a new father. One morning, he must sneak a drink to keep his hands from shaking, and though he thinks that he is balancing his drinking and life, he senses that something is not right. Damoff uses the simile of anxiety like a worm that slithers in his stomach, evoking an unsettling feeling, like something devious is lurking. This captures the unease Ryan feels deep down and tries to ignore.

“My heart lurches with jealousy of Kendi, here at the untarnished beginning of it. I want to wake up back there and discover that the years were a fever dream.”

As Ryan works toward sobriety, he grows closer to Jet and Kendi and finds that he has conflicted emotions. He wants their relationship to be nothing like his and Lillian’s, but he also feels jealous and resentful, their happiness a reminder of what he lost because of his drinking. The reference to a “fever dream” evokes a blurred and even hallucinatory quality to the time that has passed, connecting to the novel’s exploration of the passage of time.