“We were promised sufferings. They were part of the program. We were even told, 'Blessed are they that mourn,' and I accept it. I've got nothing that I hadn't bargained for. Of curse it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not imagination.”
Written in mini paragraphs that were apparently sections recorded during his thoughts, I can almost picture him waking up at night and unable to go back to sleep, reflecting on something in particular, then casually writing it down on a notebook he kept on the bedside table.
I've read reviews where he goes through phases of grief, anger, and then an almost acceptance. I didn't feel the acceptance as much per se, but more of a fondness for her memory and realizing that to rely too much on memory is never enough.
It's a sad, sobering book that is helpful to read through a person's own grieving process. The raw feelings come clearly through the pages, scattered thoughts almost always disjointed by inner reflections as his mind tries to heal through the trauma he faced.
The book is of course not 'enjoyable' - it's not a self-help, advice book on grief either. It's a personal process that has been shared, a painful experience that clearly comes through his writing. Recommended for those who are going through grief, sometimes sharing through reading and writing is the best form of therapy.
“I once read the sentence 'I lay awake all night with a toothache, thinking about the toothache an about lying awake.' That's true to life. Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.”