Yesterday, the advanced copies of my book arrived – 50 bound texts of my own words, with my name on the front and my picture on the inside. In hardcover! (If you’re a book nerd like me, you will get why it feels especially thrilling to have a hardcover book). It was definitely exciting. This book has been several years in the making, and there were times that it felt like actually holding this thing would never really happen. Yesterday it did – and I’m thankful.
AND.
It’s weird to feel too excited when you publish a book like this one. “Hey! Here’s a book that details the death of my sister and the worst year of my life that followed!” Writing this book was emotionally draining. I wrote it seven years after my sister’s death, and each day when I’d sit to write it felt like taking a band-aid off a wound and slicing it open again. Holding that same book was beautiful but emotional. There’s a story in it I wish I didn’t have to tell. I would have preferred if this story had not been mine. It feels a bit complicated to celebrate getting to tell it.
So I don’t rejoice about the story I’m telling. What I celebrate – or rather, embrace with gratitude – is the chance to share something that I believe will help people make space for their grief. When I went through loss, it took me a while to learn that I didn’t need to figure out how to fix my grief. Oh, I tried. Trust. I looked to any plan, book, or system to make things better. I girded myself up and I pushed my feelings down. I projected strength and worked hard to be “good” at grief (which to me meant minimal crying, offering sage reflections, and generally being able to cope with life each day). None of it worked, of course. My grief didn’t need fixing – it needed room.
My story is not even the slightest bit unique. In fact, I tell many stories besides my own in my book of people with whom I’ve journeyed through loss. Grief is everywhere. It is the universal heartbreak that shocks everyone of us. I wrote this book with the hope that it would help anyone facing loss to know their grief is valid. I hope it will, indeed, create “Grieving Room” for people who need it.
When you see my smile in this picture, know that that is what I am celebrating.
“Grieving Room: Making Space for All the Hard Things After Death and Loss” releases February 6, 2024. You can preorder now at:
https://www.broadleafbooks.com/store/product/9781506492377/Grieving-Room
Leanne Friesen 