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.
Outlander series.
I brought the first one to hospital with me when I gave birth to my first child, and when I finally got back from the operating theatre after being patched up I read a few pages, determined not to become a woman who “used to read until I had children…” - it was 2am, I’d laboured all day and the night before but I was adamant that I read before I go to sleep, and I’d read that book often enough to be confident I could open to any page, know what was going on and get totally immersed in the story.
With my second child I think I was already doing a back-to-back reread of the series, and bought the book I was reading along with me. I definitely was in the middle of my second back-to-back reread when my Dad went into hospital for the last week, and that book kept me grounded as I slept in his room most nights that week…and was my escape duimring the months after.
Last week… I don’t know it what it was - my hormones, my now teen daughter’s hormones, then of the season, a virus…something. no one and nothing could bring me joy or shake my funk. After a family walk meant to get everyone out of their own heads and gelling again that failed miserably, I took to my bed, coming out only to grab Outlander before stomping back. I read it off and on for most of that day. I was feeling better the following day, but I kept reading for a few more chapters because I was just so immersed.
It always takes me away from whatever stress or big emotion I’m feeling, and lands me where I’m meant to be. Any book, any page, but especially the first few.
Read away. Feel your grief, share your grief and also your memories. Listen to others as they share theirs. Be present with family members as you prepare and then gather to farewell your grandmother. And when it all gets too much, open your book and let it carry you along as your emotions wash over you and flow through you, and in time you’ll find yourself in the place where you’re meant to be. Feel no guilt, I’m sure your grandmother would say you have nothing to be guilty about. You made plans to catch up with her soon. That’s enough. I’m so sorry you can’t hear her say that. May you be flooded with great memories and deep love during this sad time.