Sign in with Facebook
Amy's Reviews > Here After
Here After
by
***
Amy Lin's deeply meditative memoir offers a nonlinear perspective on the sudden loss of her husband, who passed away at the age of thirty-two when he heads out for a half-marathon. His deathly collapse is unbelievable and leaves her with no answers.
Just ten days later, she begins to have abdominal pain that Amy attributes to simply weeping- feeling indescribable pain in her rib. But what develops is a harrowing medical crisis that leaves her body in a weakened state as she navigates funeral planning while emerging from the ICU. Set against the grim backdrop of the pandemic, all of this can't be processed the way it deserves, from Zoom calls with a therapist to the absence of friend gatherings.
I read this book with much trepidation- I'm not typically drawn to this type of memoir simply because I'm in a season where life feels challenging. But, I walked away from this experience with an instruction manual on my misconceptions about what is helpful or harmful to someone grieving.
Lin processes it in a contemplative way, but also almost as an academic exercise to understand the body's responses to loss, why grief doesn't fit abstract timeliness, and what we should and should not say to those newly processing loss.
It reads like a diary, segmented into impactful emotional bites that sometimes seamlessly blend old memories among fresh aspects of grief. Intentional white space is left on every page, offering readers space between each entry. But readers should expect big emotions with devastating lines like, "When he dies, I fall out of time."
It was a joy to share an hour with Amy Lin on Book Gang and discuss the hurtful and harmful ways that people support grieving and the beneficial ways we can step into people's lives without shying away from the universal experience of grief. If the memoir itself feels too heavy, the conversation will give you so much for your relationships now and in the future.
Lin unflinchingly tells the reader that if you think this is hard for you, imagine what it is like for me. You can't turn away.
by
Listen to Amy Lin on the Book Gang Podcast NOW! We discuss Surprising Truths About Grief Click here to tune in! If you love the show, please consider joining my Patreon.
***
Amy Lin's deeply meditative memoir offers a nonlinear perspective on the sudden loss of her husband, who passed away at the age of thirty-two when he heads out for a half-marathon. His deathly collapse is unbelievable and leaves her with no answers.
Just ten days later, she begins to have abdominal pain that Amy attributes to simply weeping- feeling indescribable pain in her rib. But what develops is a harrowing medical crisis that leaves her body in a weakened state as she navigates funeral planning while emerging from the ICU. Set against the grim backdrop of the pandemic, all of this can't be processed the way it deserves, from Zoom calls with a therapist to the absence of friend gatherings.
I read this book with much trepidation- I'm not typically drawn to this type of memoir simply because I'm in a season where life feels challenging. But, I walked away from this experience with an instruction manual on my misconceptions about what is helpful or harmful to someone grieving.
Lin processes it in a contemplative way, but also almost as an academic exercise to understand the body's responses to loss, why grief doesn't fit abstract timeliness, and what we should and should not say to those newly processing loss.
It reads like a diary, segmented into impactful emotional bites that sometimes seamlessly blend old memories among fresh aspects of grief. Intentional white space is left on every page, offering readers space between each entry. But readers should expect big emotions with devastating lines like, "When he dies, I fall out of time."
It was a joy to share an hour with Amy Lin on Book Gang and discuss the hurtful and harmful ways that people support grieving and the beneficial ways we can step into people's lives without shying away from the universal experience of grief. If the memoir itself feels too heavy, the conversation will give you so much for your relationships now and in the future.
Lin unflinchingly tells the reader that if you think this is hard for you, imagine what it is like for me. You can't turn away.
Sign into Goodreads to see if any of your friends have read
Here After.
Sign In »
Reading Progress
Started Reading
April 21, 2024
– Shelved
April 21, 2024
–
Finished Reading
