A Heart That Works
THE SUNDAY TIMES BESTSELLER
-
- 6,49 €
-
- 6,49 €
Description de l’éditeur
In this memoir of loss, acclaimed writer and comedian Rob Delaney grapples with the fragile miracle of life, the mysteries of death, and the question of purpose for those left behind.
When you're a parent and your child gets hurt or sick, you not only try to help them get better but you also labour under the general belief that you can help them get better. That's not always the case though. Sometimes the nurses and the doctors can't fix what's wrong. Sometimes children die.
Rob Delaney's beautiful, bright, gloriously alive son Henry died. He was one when he was diagnosed with a brain tumour. An experience beyond comprehension, but an experience Rob must share. Why does he feel compelled to talk about it, to write about it, to make people feel something like what he feels when he knows it will hurt them? Because, despite Henry's death, Rob still loves people. For that reason, he wants them to understand.
A Heart That Works is an intimate, unflinching and fiercely funny exploration of loss - from the harrowing illness to the vivid, bodily impact of grief and the blind, furious rage that follows, through to the forceful, unstoppable love that remains.
This is the story of what happens when you lose a child, and everything you discover about life in the process.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Delaney (Rob Delaney: Mother. Wife. Sister. Human. Warrior. Falcon. Yardstick. Turban. Cabbage.), cocreator and costar of the sitcom Catastrophe, recounts the death of his toddler son, Henry, and the aftermath in this heartrending memoir. In 2014, Delaney and his wife, Leah, moved to London for his work; two years later, Henry was born. Toward the end of his first year, Henry underwent an MRI, and a brain surgeon discovered a tumor near his brain stem. Following a successful surgery to remove the tumor, Henry lost the ability to swallow and received a tracheostomy, and health complications kept him in the hospital for 14 months. After Henry finally went home, Delaney writes, he basked in the "unalloyed beauty of his personality." But it was a short-lived idyll: Henry's cancer returned, and he died several months later, at home in Leah's arms. Delaney is reflective ("It physically pained me to sign the consent forms each time he got chemo"), and his raw emotionality captures the enormity of his loss ("I was ready to love this boy forever"). Profound, crushing, and wrenching, this account of a father's love takes the full measure of grief.
