2.75

It isn't easy giving a rating to a memoir—especially one about grief. I want to preface this by saying that my rating reflects the writing, and how well the author conveyed an understanding of her grief, as well as an emotional attachment to the subject matter.

The writing in this was excellent. But I felt incredibly disconnected from the subject matter. It felt distant and cold for something written so close the events, when everything should be so raw and burning with intensity.

Maybe my issue is my inability to relate when I thought I was primed to relate to this. I recently lost a best friend, followed by a very close friend. On its heels, I am witnessing two of my mothers battling and losing to cancer, and I reside in a body that is no stranger to illness and fear of mortality. Of course alongside this is fighting through mountains of student loans and other debts, trying to keep my head above ground. So maybe it is harder for me to understand the juxtaposition of losing jewelry and loss. Maybe that kind of grief or loss is too gentle for me right now, even though I am sure for the author it is its own mountain. I don't know. In the end it felt like wanting comfort just to find the blanket to be thin and lacking coverage.