Grief is the price of love.
This phrase, popularized by Queen Elizabeth II, is on my mind today. This week, the life of a close friend, an amazing woman, was snuffed out by that cruel mistress of fate, cancer. Laura was, really, just the best. I met her in 1988 when someone, thankfully, recommended her sewing skills to me. I was getting married and had it in my head that I’d wear my grandmother’s wedding dress–she was wed in May of 1929–but my grandmother was four inches shorter than I am and she’d bound her breasts which I was disinclined to do. Laura worked a miracle* and we became friends. We lost touch for several decades and then, several years ago, reconnected over our love of Bollywood and happy endings. I will miss her terribly.
Since she went into hospice, I’ve been having a hard time sticking with any of the novels I keep trying. I start them and then I put them down. I think I need a true comfort read. You know, the sort of book that acts as a hug and reminds us that, yes, it is all worth it.
What would you suggest?
*
Here is said dress. She added a sash, made of lace she found and dyed with tea, repurposed a gorgeous pearled buckle from my grandmother’s veil, cut out the back, and viola!
I don’t have anything I can think of to recommend you but I would like to send you my condolences if that’s any consolation I’m sorry for you’re loss. R.I.P Laura.
Amanda Quick maybe? Tessa Dare.
My condolences as well Dabney. I can relate to not being able to focus right now. (Sometimes) rereading something totally familiar and/or beloved works. And perhaps listening rather than reading off a screen or page. Listening gives you the opportunity to totally relax, eyes closed and just let the story unfold with minimal effort on your part. You can fade into and out of the story as well, since it is something familiar, and no harm done.
Your dress is fabulous. As a seamstress, I can assure you that remaking something is way more work, and takes way more creativity and skill, than making something from scratch. What a gorgeous photo too. 😉 Thank you for sharing! I hope you feel better soon.
I lost my Mum a few weeks ago, and I’m not sure there’s any book that could offer any degree of comfort after that. I’ve been re-listening to audiobooks by favourite narrators (I don’t care what the stories are about, I just like the familiar voices!) and reading whatever is on my ARC pile (which has included romantic suspense and a dystopian novella) or on my Kindle that I fancy. Reading itself is a comfort I suppose, in that it gives me something else to focus on.
I was thinking of you when I read this, Caz. And my answer to Dabney is pretty much the same (although I would limit tense settings)– reread things that are comforting and familiar. Or, if one doesn’t like to reread books, try to pick and author you’ve had success with in the past.
I lost my Mom two years ago, and while it was expected (she was sick for months, and we were told she was dying), I was surprised at how painful both the loss and the ensuing year were. I agree, it can be the familiar that brings comfort. Familiar voices, faces, and stories all bring with them something healing.
My condolences, Caz. My thoughts are with you.
Thank you, Indira. It’s not like we weren’t expecting it (she was 88 and had terminal cancer), but it’s still hard.
Yes, I understand. My mother died fifteen years ago at 85, I still miss her. You will miss your mom always, I think, but memories of her will get fresher and fresher with every passing day.
Deepest condolences, Caz!
Thanks, Lisa. As you’ve already said (kind of) here, cancer is a bitch.
My oldest and closest friend died suddenly, without warning, four weeks ago. I found I could not focus on any books, TV, the newspapers, etc. but I did find comfort in music. Not pop songs, etc., but orchestral music like a bit of Brahms or a work by Mozart. We went to more than a few classical music concerts together over the decades so I have found it very comforting to listen to music without words.
I hate cancer with all the heat of a thousand suns; my condolences, Dabney. I’m trying to think of something short and fluffy that might help!
I’ve been reading short stories–more on that later!
I’m so sorry for your loss, and the losses of the other commenters.
For me, Eva Ibbotson’s “young adult” romances (A Countess below Stairs, The Reluctant Heiress, etc.) are wonderful comfort reads, although sometimes the characters do experience death and grief, so they may not be for you right now. L.M. Montgomery’s The Blue Castle is in a similar vein, and Winifred Watson’s Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day is a light, fun read. In general I’d go with historical fiction/romance or fantasy — something that’s far removed from our current world.
When I am having a hard time, YA often does the trick. I’ve not read Ibbotson. I’ll check her out!
They’re great. She’s great. I’d steer clear of The Morning Gift — it’s actually my fave of her adult romances, but a little more heavy in its themes. I think Wild Swans is pretty great though. Journey to the River Sea — actual young adult — is also a fabulous book.
Oh, I am so sorry to read of your loss. Friends are the family we choose.
I adore “A Countess Below Stairs” and use it frequently when I am feeling anxious or sad, along with her “Morning Gift.” I adore, adore, adore the movie “Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day,” and loved the recorded book, in spite of a couple of slurs about Jews, which is typical in the 30’s. These, of course, are not in the movie.
In books, anything by Loretta Chase, and also Emma Chase’s “Royally Screwed” which is inspired by the royal family. Laura Florand’s “Chase Me,” Emily Henry’s “Funny Story,” If I were you, I’d reread my favorites.
I am currently dealing with endometrial cancer and I found this poem strangely comforting.
I Am Standing Upon The Seashore by Henry Van Dyke
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says; “There, she is gone!”
“Gone where?” Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port. Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says, “There, she is gone!” There are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout; “Here she comes!” And that is dying.
That is so lovely. Thank you.
Have you read this one?
Life After Death by Laura Gilpin
The things I know:
how the living go on living
and how the dead go on living with them
So that in a forest
even a dead tree casts a shadow
and the leaves fall one by one
and the branches break in the wind
and the bark peels off slowly
and the trunk cracks
and the rain seeps in through the cracks
and the trunk falls to the ground
and the moss covers it
and in the spring the rabbits find it
and build their nests inside
and have their young
and their young will live safely
inside the dead tree
So that nothing is wasted in nature or in love.
I had endometrial cancer 30 years ago (I was 34 and it was related to undiagnosed pcos). Fortunately, if diagnosed early endometrial cancer is fairly easy to treat. It was the symptoms leading up to the diagnosis that were hard for me to deal with. Hopefully your doctor was able to diagnose you early and your treatment is fully successful.
For comfort reads, I echo what others say and reread books that you love or that bring you joy. Some people might go for something light hearted and fun, nothing too heavy. But some people might want a good tear jerker to get those emotions out. We’re all different, so what works for me might not work for you.
Karen – Thank you for your sharing. I will going in to hospital in a few days for surgery so things will become more clear. I am still in the Liaden Universe right now and it is the perfect spot for me.
My condolences, Dabney. It’s hard to part with someone we love.
Yes it is. <3
During a very similar sad and stressful time last year and this year, I found Megan Bannen’s ‘The Undertaking of Hart & Mercy’ and “The Undermining of Twyla and Frank” to be perfect escapism for me. Agree that it helps to stay away from ‘real world’ types of plots and settings. I’d also try Jennifer Cruisie & Bob Mayer’s newest collabs. I think Lois McMaster Bujold’s books–especially the Penric series might work.
Sending you my condolences.
After my oldest brother passed at only 43, I found the Connie Willis book “Passage” strangely comforting. I’m not sure why….
I glad you found comfort.
I’ve recently read Cara Bastone’s Promise Me Sunshine and it’s the most glorious rumination on grief. I adored it – it needs a review on AAR so I’ll work on that. I’d recommend it to everyone – especially Dabney and Caz right now. I’ve found the catharsis or reading about grief to be really helpful when I’m grieving. The latest Bridget Jones movie is also beautifully done and had me howling in the theatre. Anything by Kate Clayborn resonates and Joan Didion’s Year of Magical Thinking is another one (not a romance tho). Mary Oliver’s and Kate Baer’s poetry as well.
Hugs all around.
I love Mary Oliver’s work. I read a poem a day and often turn to her.
“Bridget Jones” movie “had you howling.” Howling with sobs or laughter?
When I wrote that I meant crying, but now I think about it, it was also howls of laughter – it’s just a great emotional release
I just read the Bastone–thanks for the rec! I’m reviewing it this week.
I like to read anything by Betty Neels they are formulaic but with lovely descriptions of both the scenery and the lavish meals light but comforting at the same time
Sounds like a nice cruise!
When my mom died last year, I had a hard time concentrating. I reread comfort books. I also read a lot of non-fiction.
When you are ready, I have two recommendations for books that resonated with me.
This Ordinary Stardust by Alan Townsend
Dr. Townsend writes about his daughter’s and wife’s cancer diagnoses. He is a scientist and during the course of the book examines science, nature, and faith.
Memorial Days by Geraldine Brooks
When Brooks’s husband died unexpectedly, she didn’t immediately process his death. This memoir alternates chapters between dealing with the unexpected immediacy of death and then processing loss at a later time.
I extend my hope that you found peace and blessings as your friend died. And to everyone who lost someone special.
I have to say, I am avoiding books with people who die of cancer–in general–right now because I have cancer. Yes, they tell me it’s unlikely to kill me but it’s too close for me right now.
I’m very sorry to see this prayers for you’re health.
Thank you. I’m doing well and my prognosis is very good. But it is a weight on my psyche still.
Dabney, I understand. That is a lot of weight. Sending you strength to navigate this.
I am sorry to learn you are grieving for your friend. My mother passed away at the end of February. I find myself needing to bake, particularly breads and muffins. My mom was a great baker. My home smells lovely and I, more often than not, give away the results. While I bake I listen to audio books, mostly romances I find from my local library’s collections. I recently listened to a wonderful book recommended by a friend, ‘Remarkably Bright Creatures.’ It is the octopus bestseller from a couple of years ago.
In the evenings I have been reading some old favorites, like ‘Almost Heaven’ and ‘P&P’, and novels from Kleypas, Chase, early Garwood, Kelly and Quinn. Most times I skip over to my favorite scenes. They have the power to make me smile.
My son has been very sick in the past, and books that I loved and reread as a kid helped me. The fact that I knew them helped when my mind would wander because I didn’t feel like I missed anything, and the comfort of nostalgia helped me feel things even when my negative thoughts were super saturating. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Thanks for sharing the photo. I love the dress!
I would suggest Jennifer Crusie for comfort read. Also Julie Garwood.
Thanks!!
My condolences to Dabney and Caz. Like many who have posted, when I am sad or stressed, I gravitate towards soft, happy romances and re-reads of old favorites. But I agree with Caz that just reading itself is a comfort.
Dabney and Caz, you have my deepest condolences! I am so thoroughly sick of cancer and it’s devastating repercussions! I lost my best friend and cousin to it in 2010. She was 49. And then I lost my husband to it 6 years ago. He was 54! There is something truly soul crushing watching someone you love fight this monster, especially watching the toll it takes on the kids who are affected.
I still struggle with what I call “grief pockets”, where certain dates are harder than the rest of year… their birthdays and their death anniversaries. When I know those dates are coming up I pull out favorites, especially series. I do re-reads and it is so comforting and really gives me something to look forward to for long stretches of time. This past January I binged all of Mary Balogh’s Bedwyn books, starting with One Night For Love and plowing through about 16 or 17 connected books. Then I moved on to Lisa Kleypas and her wallflower series and all connected books. LOL Nora Roberts has a few of my favorite series, along with Karina Bliss, Robyn Carr and Julia Quinn.
Thinking of you both and hoping you find peace and comfort in the days and weeks to follow.
Thank you. What you say about the “grief pockets” makes perfect sense – it would have been Mum’s birthday at the end of April – we’re heading to a favourite location to scatter her ashes on that date and I’m sure it won’t be easy in the years to come. I’m not sure it’s something one ever gets over – it just becomes easier to live with, I suppose.
My dad died the day before my wedding anniversary and every year, I think of him because the date is so easy to remember. (It’s been seven years and I’m not sure I’d have remembered that date in the way that I do.) Now, it’s a gift. I think of him and the memories are good ones. But it took a few years to get there.