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by Norma Rosie Wigutoff (Author)
It's the fall of 2020, in the midst of the Covid pandemic. Rosie, a 70-something divorced, feminist Jewish woman, is living her best life in Seattle with her cat Sadie, although it's a tad lonely. Then arrive the latest renters for her condo's spare bedroom-a kind, funny, mid-40s man named Kevin and his charming tuxedo cat Jasmine. This dynamic duo is a perfect fit, and Rosie's loneliness fades. Life is good. That spring, Kevin spikes a fever. A week later, he is dead.
Rosie is overcome by terrible grief that feels undeserved, along with deep, overwhelming shame. Kevin was her renter, a friend-that was all. So why this devastation? In the grief literature, Rosie stumbles across the term disenfranchised grief-grief that society tells us isn't valid. These two words help her begin to release the shame and reclaim her right to grieve Kevin's death.
Writing poignantly and compassionately, with wisdom and whimsy, Rosie reminds us that all grief is valid, whether it's over people, pets, places, or things, as well as intangible losses like our beliefs, values, dreams, and even our sense of self and our place in the world. Yes, all grief matters, even when society says it doesn't. Inside this gentle road map for healing, Rosie also shares other stories and tools that help us acknowledge, accept, embrace, and heal our grief-big, small, and in between.
Keep tissues-or a spare sleeve-handy. You might weep, laugh, or both, and find yourself thinking, "Ah, that's me, too!"
