This was not what I needed with arms that had just come to know emptiness… yet again…īut I found A Grief Observed, Lewis’s musings on grief after surviving the death of his wife Joy to be one of the more comforting ones. I had the GREAT misfortune to listen to Jon Katz’s Going Home where loved animals find their way to the slaughterhouse or to the dinner table when their lives became inconvenient. When Wootie died, I dived into a number of audiobooks on Grief, and I came to know firsthand that there are very few words to comfort. It’s always harder the more I’ve come to grief, to know that those grieving are usually pretty angry with Life and with their fellow human beings-we’re an inept lot we will ALWAYS say and do the wrong thing, either offending by our actions or our lack thereof. I’ve always found myself hemming and hawing around the newly (or not so newly) bereaved, unsure as to what to say. And the more I live my life, losing friends and loved ones, the more I’ve come to realize that Grief is such a singular experience. Joy’s son, Douglas Gresham (Lewis’s stepson) offers that the “A” in A Grief Observed shows this work to be a study of just one of many, many possible griefs that we as mere and bumbling humans encounter on our journeys through Life.
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