Why this book exists
A focused place to understand what is happening
Twenty-six months after his father died, Marek left a trolley in the aisle of a garden centre and sat in his car for forty minutes. He is forty-seven. He had done, by any account including his own, everything correctly. He wept at the funeral. He went to a bereavement group for six weeks and found it useful and finished it. He got through the first Christmas, which everybody warned him about. He got through the first anniversary, which was worse. People said he was doing well. He said he was doing well. And this is the thing that matters: it was true. Then, on a Saturday in March, he went to buy compost. There was a display near the tills. Tomato plants, in little plastic trays, and the variety was Ailsa Craig, which is what his father grew, every.
The writing is designed to reduce shame, bring the underlying pattern into view and give you practical ways to respond without pretending that every life follows the same formula.
