"Our Grief Books"
on how literature and media help us process the complexities of grief + my personal list of "grief books" over the years
More than 11 years ago, I lost my mom to an unexpected heart attack. Much of that period passed in a haze to be honest; I felt numb and disconcerted. For someone who likes to write her thoughts (and, at the time, post it with abandon in social media, particularly Facebook), I could barely write a word down. I know deep down that I wasn’t grieving properly, if there is even a baseline to what “proper” looks like.
I stopped sharing my thoughts publicly, and before I knew it, I had also stopped journaling. No words ever felt enough. Until it was buried under all the new experiences I was encountering at the time (trying to pass the board exam, finding a job, officially starting my “adult” life, living in the city for the first time, etc.). Emotional escapism was my best friend. The feeling stayed at the back of my mind, and I let it settle there, without doing anything about it.
A particularly rough year somehow unearthed a lot of things, including this, and brought it to the surface. I had no choice but to go to therapy otherwise, it felt like I would just drown. A couple of sessions after, it felt like I was this (almost) normal thing.
Over the years, I’ve grown to distance myself from any type of media that remotely touched that topic because I feel like it would be too much. (And I tried to avoid feeling too much.) I started reading one book just to test the waters. The feeling of comfort (even if it is triggering) to have your unspoken and (at the time) indescribable feelings reflected back at you through the pages you read and media you consume was a revelation. Some people are so much better in articulating these complex feelings than others; and I found solace at the works of all the writers who can put these thoughts to words with such finesse and sincerity that I cannot muster.
Before long, these books became some of the most impactful works I’ve ever encountered - particularly because of how it resonated with what I feel and my own experiences. Processing feelings through words has become a form of therapy and I continued to seek out all these titles - to bring comfort to my past self that, yes, she is not alone in this feeling.
Our grief books
I was slowly going through the In the Kitchen essay collection1 (I am currently obsessed with essay collections lately, btw) when I stumbled upon Mayukh Sen’s essay, ‘Our Grief Books’. In this piece, he explored how cooking can be a form of release and how food can hold so many memories, especially of those whom we loved but have already passed. Although this essay was relatively short, it felt longer because I didn’t want it to end; I just wanted for it to continue on.
He talked about ‘grief books’:
Everyone, it seems, has a grief book: a piece of writing that ferries them through loss, allowing them to feel less alone.
— and it got me thinking about all the wonderful pieces of writing that ferried me in the aftermath.
My grief books
What to Do When I'm Gone: A Mother’s Wisdom to her Daughter by Suzy Hopkins and Hallie Bateman - my OG book that started to make me realize that it’s okay to face my fears. “DAY 850: Talk to me. You'll see or do something and think, 'Mom would have loved this.' Maybe you'll be walking on a beautiful beach and suddenly remember how much I loved our trips to the ocean. Or you'll get a great new job or meet someone wonderful, and you'll feel sad that you can't talk to me. But you can.” (Read my review here)
Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner - Grief is a unique experience to each individual and Michelle tried to process hers by writing and performing; all the while trying to hold on to that intrinsic piece of herself that felt taken away when her mom died. “I remember these things clearly because that was how my mother loved you, not through white lies and constant verbal affirmation, but in subtle observations of what brought you joy, pocketed away to make you feel comforted and cared for without even realizing it. She remembered if you liked your stews with extra broth, if you were sensitive to spice, if you hated tomatoes, if you didn't eat seafood, if you had a large appetite. She remembered which banchan side dish you emptied first so the next time you were over it'd be set with a heaping double portion, served alongside the various other preferences that made you, you.” (Read my review here)
(Just) Last Night by Mhairi McFarlane - While the previous two are about the death of a parent, this deals with the death of a close friend. And though the circumstances may vary a bit, no matter your relationship with the one you lost, loss is loss. And more importantly, this is one of the first books that made me give myself permission to actually live my life and move on. THAT was a gift. “‘It’s alright, you know,’ he says, quietly. ‘You’re allowed.’ ‘Allowed to what?’ ‘… Be alive. Carry on.’” (Read my review here)
The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion - This is the closest literature I’ve ever read that mirrored my experience with grief and mourning (and even my feelings towards death) with perfect clarity and abandon. “Life changes in the instant. The ordinary instant.” (Read my review here)
The Rainbow Comes and Goes: A Mother and Son on Life, Love, and Loss by Anderson Cooper and Gloria Vanderbilt - Poignant and intimate conversations between Anderson and his mom shortly before she passed. While it’s not exactly dealing with death (but it was written in anticipation of it), there are nuggets here that ferried me through certain moments in my life. I wished I made more of an effort to connect with my mom before she died. Gloria mentioned a Virgil quote that made me look at things in a new light: "Perhaps, someday, it will be pleasant to remember even this." (which has become my personal insta bio since) - then subsequently pointed out, "It gives pause, doesn't it?". (Read my short review here)
Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors - A recent read: about the life of 3 sisters on the aftermath of their sister’s sudden passing, was hard hitting and deeply affecting. Also, this quote:
And now, I also have this essay to thank for this reflection: Our Grief Books by Mayukh Sen. I know there’s a lot more literature about grief, dealing with the aftermath of death of a loved one, or just about anything that reflects back your emotions in moments of loss. It’s been talked about a million times, and somehow it always feels like it’s not enough - mainly because grief is too personal and unique a feeling. I’m sure I’ll find more of these.
Other things I am looking forward to:
A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis - a collection of C.S. Lewis’ reflections on his experience of mourning his wife
Blue Nights by Joan Didion - a memoir accounting the death of Joan’s daughter, almost 2 years after the death of her husband
Intermezzo by Sally Rooney - fiction, a story of two brother navigating life in the wake of their father’s death
On loss and love: my favorite media moments through the years
A collection of media moments that I always come back to:
Stephen Colbert in conversation with Anderson Cooper about grief: on learning “to love the thing that I most wished had not happened”. I used to be so annoyed whenever people bring up the subject of religion in the face of grief (or my grief specifically). But I’ve always loved how Colbert talks about religion, and this is definitely one of those instances where I just accept it wholeheartedly: “It is a gift to exist. With existence comes suffering.” (Start at the 13:00 mark)
Andrew Garfield on grief, in conversation with Stephen Colbert: on crying a as a beautiful thing to celebrate your love “I love talking about it by the way, so if I cry, it’s only a beautiful thing. This is all the unexpressed love […], the grief that will remain with us until we pass. Because we never get enough time with each other, right? […] I hope this grief stays with me. Because it’s all the unexpressed love that I didn’t get to tell her, and we told her every day.” (Start at 4:20 mark)
All There Is with Anderson Cooper (podcast), Anderson Cooper’s podcast dedicated to his personal exploration of grief and the complexities of it. I loved this Stephen Colbert episode, which is one of the very first few ones, on how one can be grateful of grief. This recent Andrew Garfield episode is a much-listen as well.
This Modern Love Episode: On a Serpentine Road, With the Top Down (S02, E01) - I’ve always loved Modern Love episodes, but this one takes the cake. Years have passed since I first watched this and I still find myself bawling at specific scenes. Also, this scene in particular. “It’s love and grief, baby. There are no rules.” Oh, to be understood and loved like that.
The whole Season 1 of Fleabag, that masterful show, as she tries to grapple with guilt and grief. This scene in particular is something I always go back to. “I don’t know what to do with it. […] Will all the love I have for her. I don’t know where to put it now.”
This quote from The Sandman: Act III audiobook, as Dream (played masterfully by James McAvoy) told Orpheus as he mourned for Eurydice: “You grieve. Then you continue with your life. [...] And at times the fact of her absence will hit you like a blow to the chest, and you will weep. But this will happen less and less as time goes on. She is dead. You are alive. So live.”
(From the media list above, I know it’s quite obvious who and what my favorites are: Anderson Cooper, Andrew Garfield2, Stephen Colbert, and The New York Time’s Modern Love section ~)
I wouldn’t wanna wish anyone this feeling, but it remains true that it is an ever-present thing. We can grieve anything - even if the loss is not due to death. It might be a past relationship, a friendship that didn’t stand the test of time, a thing, even a moment. And whenever you feel it or if you’ve felt it, I hope you know that you are not alone in it (even if it might feel like that at the moment).
Do you have your own ‘grief book’ too? Or have you read any piece of work that tackles loss, and the aftermath, that resonated? Any recommendation is welcome!
P.S. This morning, I received news that Ginger, one of our rescue cats, died. He was around 3 years old. I am in the UK at the moment. My family is in the Philippines. I am starting this weird process of grieving the loss of something dear to me again, away from home. It feels surreal, to be honest. I feel like I don’t want to talk about it; but at the same time, it’s all I want to talk about. And throughout the day, I find myself starting to shrink back again - particularly wanting to bury this article in my drafts (I’ve started drafting this even before this news). But I tried to fight the feeling and here we are. I think my future self will thank me for it. I hope I’m not wrong.
I’ve been trying to collect this series of essay collections from Daunt Books Publishing, which I discovered when I came across Amy Key’s Arrangements in Blue (which is by far one of my 2024 favorite reads!). I got By the River first (in which Amy is a contributor). Then I got In the Kitchen, then In the Garden. I am only missing At the Pond. And today, I just discovered they are publishing a new one called Freewheeling in 2025! It’s a series that keeps on giving. I distinctly remember seeing one about reading but I can’t find it anywhere (it’s like a fever dream at this point) - I hope they make one though, if it is still not out there.
I also want to mention here these recent Andrew Garfield media moments: How a Modern Love Essay Moved Andrew Garfield: “This is why art is so important. Cause it can get us to places that we can’t get to any other way.” NYT full podcast; and also, this Elmo interaction teaching kids about grief: “It’s actually kinda okay to miss someone.”
this post resonated w/ me especially that i've also lost some loved ones in the past year. really made me think about my own "grief books" as well esp the ones that got me through rough patches (there is something very reassuring to read your grief as articulated by other ppl, it doesnt feel heavier somehow). sending love and hugs ate riza!
Loved reading this, and I'm so sorry for your losses.
I find a lot of solace in stillness and being outdoors in nature; haven't yet found a book or medium that captures or helps me process grief.