I am “generation Harry Potter” (and please, I really do not wish to discuss JK Rowling right now). What I mean is that I was just the right age when the books where first published and I grew up with them being a few years younger than the protagonists.
Now I did not have the most ideal childhood. My home situation was complicated and I was home alone a lot. I also was a sickly child and had to stay home from school often. I did not get much but I wish for a new book every now and then and when I was home alone because of a tonsilitis my mom bought me Harry Potter. I was 9.
Since then HP somehow became my comfort zone, my safe space. Whenever I felt like shit I would hole up in my room and read through the HP books. As a teen I never told anyone since I already understood it was weird to read a book again and again to flee from reality. But I figured it will phase out once I am an adult and “figured stuff out”.
Well, it didn’t. You can guess how old I am given the above information and through all my 20’s and then 30’s til now I kept turning to the HP books whenever something bad happened. Especially something grief and death related.
Yesterday my grandmother died completely unexpectedly (I mean, she was old but she was relatively well until now and she was out for a coffe and cake and then dinner the day before yesterday with my parents even. Sudden fatal heart attack not even 24 hours later. I missed the chance to see her again after months of not visiting. We had planned a day together on Dec 1st. I am incredibly sad and full of guilt).
I took off of work today and now I am at home, sudden crying outbursts all the time and it’s like my whole body and mind scream for my personal method of “relief”: Lay in bed with a hot cup of tea and HP and the sorcerers stone and just nope out of real life. I know this is not healthy and a little weird but it helps me so much.
I just wanted to know if others know this feeling as well… and what your comfort book and story is.
I was just slightly too old to grow up with HP – I was in college when they really became a phenomenon-- but I read and fell in love with them as an adult. I have enjoyed sharing them with my older two kids, who have read the series on their own multiple times after reading them with my husband and me. Last week, our youngest stayed home from school with a cold, and I suggested that we snuggle up and read Sorcerer’s Stone together. We had tried it a year or two before but I think it was a little too complicated for her at the time. Now she’s loving it and we are already about two thirds through it. It has been, I think, a good escape for her from feeling crummy.
For me, my childhood escape books were Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, and Matilda. I still read them semi-regularly, especially now that we have kids to share them with.
Finally, I’m so sorry for the loss of your grandmother. It sounds like she had a lovely last day – I hope I spend mine getting dinner, cake, and coffee with family – and was looking forward to seeing you next week. The grief of losing someone you love can feel overwhelmingly heavy at times, and there is no shame in setting it down for a while to pick up a book instead.