Essays On Loss And Grief

Essays On Loss And Grief-29
For me, the message is applicable to the loss of a love of any age. "My numbers add up perfectly, every way I count them. To the second, if you like." I think longingly of all the days that he might have had, the dreams now gone forever. I demanded the tall slender glass, absolutely sure it held more juice. "So, please, tell me, I yearn to know, the reproducible irreducible measure of a life. ""A measure that convinces you Michelangelo's meticulously painted Sistine Chapel and Picasso's Dove, created with but one deft brush stroke, are both masterpieces.

For me, the message is applicable to the loss of a love of any age. "My numbers add up perfectly, every way I count them. To the second, if you like." I think longingly of all the days that he might have had, the dreams now gone forever. I demanded the tall slender glass, absolutely sure it held more juice. "So, please, tell me, I yearn to know, the reproducible irreducible measure of a life. ""A measure that convinces you Michelangelo's meticulously painted Sistine Chapel and Picasso's Dove, created with but one deft brush stroke, are both masterpieces.

Among them are these: nonfiction books that inform the writing of death as well as the mourning of it.

Death is the ultimate irony, the thing that isn’t supposed to happen until it does, at which point it transforms into instant inevitability.

It’s a charming and honest portrait, the best kind of obituary: a love story.

, Thomas Lynch I so want to have a drink with this guy. His essays plumb Didion’s notion of death as “the ordinary instant.” He sees it almost every day, and yet his writing shows that he never stops .

But this book specifically is the first thing I offer when I don’t know what to say to someone who has just experienced the death of a loved one. ) I think the greatest achievement of this rich meditation is the way Didion reveals a process, the way mourning moves like ocean tides, back and forth, in union with a greater nature.

The second line of the book, “,” introduces the constant recalculating of time that accompanies a sudden loss, a desperation to reach back into the just-gone past and change something, anything, and the desperation of knowing that’s impossible. He felt like she’d been easy material, flattened in a way to suit the medium of print., Edwidge Danticat This book came out after I’d finished writing mine, and I’m both sorry and relieved it wasn’t available sooner. As part of Graywolf Press’s excellent “The Art of” series on the writing craft, it’s a book about writing on the subject of death, and also a primer on the art of losing someone—in this case, her mother.In her opening essay, “Living Dyingly” (a phrase from Christopher Hitchen’s which could easily be on this list), Danticat offers the first of her many generous truths: “When you’re young, your parents can seem immortal, then they get terminally ill and they remove the possibility of either you or them being immortal.” This seems equally obvious and wise; Danticat, as do all the writers included here, reveals that life’s truth becomes increasingly simpler the closer it gets to its end. So there is a deep well of reasons to recommend it.Sometimes I fear saying the wrong things when trying to comfort a bereaved friend. So to conclude this series on grief and acceptance, I've decided to share a recent letter to a friend.But first, I want to mention that I expect to continue learning, gaining insights that will help me find gentler, stronger, more comforting words for future letters.We can escape the pain of an incision if anesthetized while the two sides of the wound knit nicely together.In contrast, loss of a love causes pain, without which healing doesn’t progress.I can still see my old office scale: the stand-up kind whose big round face had numbers around the edge except at 12 o'clock, where two words marked the spot.I can still picture my patient lumbering onto its platform, his weight far exceeding capacity and forcing me to look elsewhere for my answer.I avoid books and authors too close to what I’m trying to do for fear of corrupting my own precious few original ideas, or slipping into the wrong voice, or suffering a complete crisis of confidence.But I do choose books in the same general universe of what I’m after. I started out writing about the experience of building a casket with my octogenarian father while he was undergoing treatment for cancer.

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