Reviews with content warning for Grief - Pár poznámok o smútku

CNA captured the essence of her grief in a way that was beautifully poignant and profound. Many lines touched me and will stand out in my mind forever. She hit the nail on the head by describing the painful albeit honest notion of 'the world moves on but you are still stuck in your grief.'

“Does love bring, even if unconsciously, the delusional arrogance of expecting never to be touched by grief?”

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megbooks02's review against another edition

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reflective fast-paced

4.0

Two beautiful quotes from this book:

“Does love bring, even if unconsciously, the delusional arrogance of expecting never to be touched by grief?”

“For the rest of my life, I will live with my hands outstretched for things that are no longer there.”

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josie9's review against another edition

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challenging emotional reflective sad tense medium-paced

3.75

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christinesreads's review against another edition

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emotional reflective sad medium-paced

5.0

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lixard's review against another edition

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emotional reflective sad slow-paced

4.75

the lines that hit me so hard i rewound the tape to listen to it more to get the max hurt. (there are many)

why are my sides so sore and achy? it's from crying, i'm told. i did not know that we cry with our muscles. the pain is not surprising, but its physicality is.
another revelation: how much laughter is a part of grief. laughter is tightly breeded into our family argot. and now, we laugh, remembering my father, but somewhere in the background, there is a haze of disbelief. the laughter trails off, the laughter becomes tears, and becomes sadness, and becomes rage. i am unprepared for my wretched, roaring rage.
how is it, that the world keeps going, breathing in and out unchanged, while in my soul, there is a permanent scattering?
he was 88, so deeply riles, because age is irrelevant in grief. at issue is not how old he was, but how loved. yes, he was 88, but a cataclysmic hole now suddenly gapes open in your life, a part of you snatched away forever.
it was the wholeness of him, that formed me.
the man is not a good teacher, not because he didn't know how to solve it, but because he didn't say he didn't know. [...] my father taught me that learning is neverending.
you have a particular laugh when you are with daddy, my husband tells me, even when what he says isn't funny. i recognize the high-pitched cackle he mimics and i know it is not so much about what my father says, as it is about being with him. a laugh that i will never laugh again. never has come to stay. never feels so unfairly punitive. for the rest of my life, i will live with my hands outstretched, for things that are no longer there.
there is a sensation that is frightening, of a receding, of an ancestry, slipping away. but at least i am left with enough for myth, if not memory.
the need to proclaim not nearly the loss, but the love, the continuity. i am my father's daughter: it is an act of resistance and refusal. grief telling you it is over, and your heart telling you it is not. grief trying to shrink your love to the past, and your heart saying it is present.
a new voice is pushing itself of my writing, full of the closeness i feel to death, the awareness of my own mortality, so finely threaded, so acute. a new urgency, a new impermanence in the air. i must write everything now, because who knows how long i have?

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eyl22's review against another edition

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reflective sad fast-paced

4.0

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anger566's review against another edition

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emotional sad fast-paced

3.0

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