Rebecca Woolf has the remarkable ability to tackle hard topics using truth and candor. Instead of this book feeling heavy, it feels like permission. Permission to speak the truths of how you really feel in the light of a difficult situation. Permission to acknowledge everything is not always hunky-dory. Permission to talk about how a relationship was not super functional, even after one of the people has died. 

As a culture, we tiptoe around talk of death, dying, and the dead. We only remember the positives and don’t allow for the recognition of the imperfections of the dead. Woolf does not avoid these areas of discussion. She highlights the dysfunction of the relationship and the responsibility of both parties. While this is her story, she doesn’t shy away from her truth, including her infidelity.

This story is not just the death and dying of a man, but also a woman coming back to herself and her truth.