When 36-year-old Sophie Stanton's husband dies of cancer, she desperately wants to be a graceful, composed Jackie Kennedy kind of widow. Alas, Sophie is more of a Jack Daniels kind. Self-medicating with cartons of ice cream for breakfast, showing up to work in her bathrobe and bunny slippers,... read more
“This is my least favorite thing about being thirty-six and single-- when your only choice is to hit movies and restaurants alone or stay home with your Lean Cuisine and remote control. You tell yourself you should appreciate this "me time." You take a bubble bath, just as the magazines tell you to, then curl up with one fo the books you've been meaning to read, reminding yourself: This is relaxing! But you can't concentrate. Your brain skitters around ilke a squirrel in the road, wondering: Will I ever find someone? Will I ever get to watch a daughter or son walk down the aisle? Will I even have a date this New Year's Eve?”Sophie
You can’t get in a train wreck if you don’t board the train. But how can I live happily ever after without loving someone again? How can I love someone again without granting him the power to crush me?Highlighted by 6 Kindle customers
“I’ve decided it’s important to love the life you get and somehow learn to let go of the life you dreamed of.”Highlighted by 5 Kindle customers
The grief is up already. It is an early riser, waiting with its gummy arms wrapped around my neck, its hot, sour breath in my ear. Now it follows me down the hall to the bathroom, tapping my shoulder the whole way. Try to pick up your toothbrush, it says.Highlighted by 4 Kindle customers
Is there anyone less essential in the world than an unemployed widow without children?Highlighted by 4 Kindle customers
Sometimes you want to turn back the clock so far that it seems you’d have to go all the way back to second grade to fix everything.Highlighted by 4 Kindle customers
I’m not afraid of dying. I’m afraid of everyone else dying and leaving me behind.Highlighted by 4 Kindle customers
Maybe she needs me to be her basket case. Just as sometimes you need a person to be strong for you, maybe sometimes you need a person to be weak for you. Maybe I am to Marion what Cops is to me. Kooky screwups who help you tell yourself: Hell, I could be worse.Highlighted by 4 Kindle customers
air-conditioning run? How could there be mail in the box? The relentless soldiering on of the world hurt my feelings.Highlighted by 3 Kindle customers
The prospect of needing Drew scares me; I don’t think I need him the way you need a vitamin or a good night’s sleep. I’m afraid I need him the way you need a cigarette or a drink. Besides, I don’t want to be engaged right now. I don’t evenHighlighted by 3 Kindle customers
What I really want is some sort of “It’s okay, I’m here” sign from Ethan. The worst part about grief is that it’s so one-sided, so unrequited. Lost loved ones don’t reciprocate, when you get right down to it. You try to convince yourself that they do. But Ethan hurts me everyHighlighted by 3 Kindle customers
Part One
Denial
Oreos
Anger
Depression
Escrow
Ashes
Part Two
Lust
Bargaining
Waitressing
Mentoring
Dating
Baking
Part Three
Acceptance
Goodwill
Thanksgiving
Preceded by Sophie's Bakery for the Broken Hearted.
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