Mikki Brammer

The Collected Regrets of Clover

Natalie

That’s the thing about loneliness: no one ever chooses it.

Grief plays tricks on you that way—a familiar whiff of cologne or a potential sighting of your person in a crowd, and all the knots you’ve tied inside yourself to manage the pain of losing them suddenly unravel.

The most important thing is never to look away from someone’s pain . . . Giving someone the chance to be seen at their most vulnerable is much more healing than any words.

Haritha R

And instead of constantly asking ourselves the question of why we’re here, maybe we should be savoring a simpler truth: We are here.

 “The truth is, grief never really goes away. Someone told me once that it’s like a bag that you always carry—it starts out as a large suitcase, and as the years go by, it might reduce to the size of a purse, but you carry it forever. I know it probably sounds clichéd, but it helped me realize that I didn’t need to ever get over it completely.”

People weren’t usually looking for a commentary to these sorts of revelations. They just needed someone to sit and listen to them without judgment. It’s tempting to try to fix it, to cheer them up. But the truth is, you’ll never find the right thing to say—because the right thing doesn’t exist. The fact that you’re there, and present, says so much more.

“I mostly regret putting the needs of others ahead of my own. But as a woman, that’s what I was taught to do. Your husband, your children, your parents—their happiness all mattered more. You were always someone’s wife, or mother, or daughter before you were yourself. It’s like I didn’t live my life for myself, as myself. Like I wasted what I was given.”

 What was it like to feel a love so strong that it still lingered with you more than sixty years later?

 “You know, everyone talks about how they want to live forever, but they don’t think about what it’s like when your wife and all your friends are dead, and you’re the only one left. It’s lonely.” An ache welled in my chest. I didn’t need to live forever to know what loneliness felt like.

It frustrated me that society was so determined to quantify grief, as if time could erase the potency of love. Or, on the other hand, how it dictated that grief for someone you knew fleetingly should be equally as fleeting. 

There’s nothing like being in love—even if it doesn’t last as long as you want it to.

 “What kind of life are you living if you’ve never let anyone see the real you?”

A life without books sounded like misery to me.

loving someone inevitably also meant one day losing them—if not by rejection or betrayal, then most certainly by death. At least when you’re alone, there’s no risk of getting hurt. After all, you can’t lose something you don’t have.

If I ever analyzed my records statistically—and one day, I might—that theme would probably turn out to be the one I heard most often. I wish I’d told them how much I love them. Sometimes people were referring to parents or spouses, other times it was friends. In almost every case, it was because they’d been so busy in their lives that they took their loved ones for granted. Or they just never knew how to find the right words.

 “Messages of love always make their way through, even when someone is unconscious.” Unfortunately, it was often the first time that love was ever expressed. 

closure was just as valuable for the living. Being denied the chance to say goodbye to a loved one left stubborn emotional scars. 

There was a freedom in having no future to speculate about.

Sitting on my sofa as the sixth day of seclusion ticked by, unable to remember when I last washed my hair, I felt the beginnings of that shift. It was like the telltale tickle of the throat before tonsillitis. The onset of symptoms began like it always did, with my viewing habits. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with losing yourself in a romantic movie or TV narrative—that’s the whole point of them. But even I knew there was a perilous line between watching something vicariously and watching it to replace real-life emotions.

The most important thing is never to look away from someone’s pain. Not just the physical pain of their body shutting down, but the emotional pain of watching their life end while knowing they could have lived it better. 

“The truth is, grief never really goes away. Someone told me once that it's like a bag that you always carry - it starts out as large as a suitcase, and as the years go by, it might reduce to the size of a purse, but you carry it forever.”

I can’t believe this is a debut novel 🥹 it’s just so good! There were so many lessons I learned, and some lines just hit me directly in the heart 🥹 This book proves that while grief may be defined with a simple sentence, each of us feels and copes with it differently.

“The truth is, grief never really goes away. Someone told me once that it's like a bag that you always carry - it starts out as large as a suitcase, and as the years go by, it might reduce to the size of a purse, but you carry it forever.”

I can’t believe this is a debut novel 🥹 it’s just so good! There were so many lessons I learned, and some lines just hit me directly in the heart 🥹 This book proves that while grief may be defined with a simple sentence, each of us feels and copes with it differently.

Jordan

britt

this book was absolutely beautiful. it felt like a warm hug. this month has been extraordinarily terrible because of the loss of my childhood dog and my grandpa. grief is so persistent and what i’ve learned from this book and my therapist is that grief never goes away. and that’s okay. because it never goes away. this book is giving me the courage to go on though. to live with the grief. 

my favorite quote were the ending words of this beautiful and amazing book: “And instead of constantly asking ourselves the question of why we’re here, maybe we should be savoring a simpler truth: We are here.”

I adored reading this book. It was lovely and sad and heart breaking and hopeful all wrapped up in one book. 

The Collected Regrets of Clover

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