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This account of Michael Pedersen’s friendship with, and grief for, Scott Hutchinson searches for the vocabulary to speak about male friendship – it is a cliché that men struggle to talk about the emotional bond between them because it is true – and so this is a particular gift. Bringing wit and humour in alongside the raw and painful.
Michael begins by remembering childhood friends that have past in and out of his life as circumstances changed, that some friendships are fleeting does not stop them being intense and having a profound impact on the people we grow up to be.
There is a sense of foreboding as Michael moves on to the account of his and Scott’s friendship, with in the delight of it we know there is a shadow to come.
Rather than try re-articulate the power of the account of grief I will share these quotes...
By the time you were found, hundreds (into thousands) of people were looking for you; I imagine every one of them will have asked things of themselves they would never repeat. I am no different.
I emerge from the crash bleeding, but still loving, still breathing. It’s now a case of survival. That’s what comes next. Living while you don’t is its own arcane act of endurance. I will remind myself every day, there is no shame in having to try this hard to stay afloat. To keep going is a gift. (p139)
Often it feels such extreme emotion should be worn as a sash or garish lanyard, visually obvious in a manner that commands attention… Other times… the idea that people might bear witness to my grief is humiliating and abhorrent. (p1)
People’s expectations of our grief can becomes an acute source of anxiety – when is too soon for a public engagement; can I share my good news; just how candidly can pain be written down then read aloud; should I cancel my birthday party; does this elegy distort someone else’s version of the truth; what about a wedding; just how seriously are you taking this; when is it okay to start laughing again; can I post this sexy-looking selfie? (p192)
Hollywood sweetheart Keanu Reeves said: ‘grief changes shape but never ends’. (p213)
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