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“A gripping and beautiful book about the power of love in the face of unimaginable loss.” —Cheryl Strayed For readers of The Bright Hour and When Breath Becomes Air, a moving, transcendent memoir of loss and a stunning exploration of marriage in the wake of unimaginable grief. As the book opens: two-year-old Greta Greene is sitting with her grandmother on a park bench on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. A brick crumbles from a windowsill overhead, striking her unconscious, and she is immediately rushed to the hospital. But although it begins with this event and with the anguish Jayson and his wife, Stacy, confront in the wake of their daughter's trauma and the hours leading up to her death, Once More We Saw Stars quickly becomes a narrative that is as much about hope and healing as it is about grief and loss. Jayson recognizes, even in the midst of his ordeal, that there will be a life for him beyond it—that if only he can continue moving forward, from one moment to the next, he will survive what seems unsurvivable. With raw honesty, deep emotion, and exquisite tenderness, he captures both the fragility of life and absoluteness of death, and most important of all, the unconquerable power of love. This is an unforgettable memoir of courage and transformation—and a book that will change the way you look at the world.
“A gripping and beautiful book about the power of love in the face of unimaginable loss.” —Cheryl Strayed For readers of The Bright Hour and When Breath Becomes Air, a moving, transcendent memoir of loss and a stunning exploration of marriage in the wake of unimaginable grief. As the book opens: two-year-old Greta Greene is sitting with her grandmother on a park bench on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. A brick crumbles from a windowsill overhead, striking her unconscious, and she is immediately rushed to the hospital. But although it begins with this event and with the anguish Jayson and his wife, Stacy, confront in the wake of their daughter's trauma and the hours leading up to her death, Once More We Saw Stars quickly becomes a narrative that is as much about hope and healing as it is about grief and loss. Jayson recognizes, even in the midst of his ordeal, that there will be a life for him beyond it—that if only he can continue moving forward, from one moment to the next, he will survive what seems unsurvivable. With raw honesty, deep emotion, and exquisite tenderness, he captures both the fragility of life and absoluteness of death, and most important of all, the unconquerable power of love. This is an unforgettable memoir of courage and transformation—and a book that will change the way you look at the world.
En raison de restrictions imposées par l'éditeur, la bibliothèque n'est pas en mesure d'acheter des exemplaires supplémentaires de ce titre et nous vous présentons toutes nos excuses si la liste d'attente est longue. N'oubliez pas de regarder s'il existe d'autres exemplaires, car d'autres éditions sont peut-être disponibles.
En raison de restrictions imposées par l'éditeur, la bibliothèque n'est pas en mesure d'acheter des exemplaires supplémentaires de ce titre et nous vous présentons toutes nos excuses si la liste d'attente est longue. N'oubliez pas de regarder s'il existe d'autres exemplaires, car d'autres éditions sont peut-être disponibles.
Extraits-
From the bookExcerpted from Once More We Saw Stars
Ever since the accident, I have avoided going to the park. The park was our place, Greta’s and mine — every tree, every leaf, every passing doggy belonged to the two of us. Even within my cocoon of shock, I am sure going there would pierce my defenses, flooding me the way my first trip outside did after she died.
And then, one day, just as the summer light is beginning to change, I wake up with a familiar itch. I need to go running in the park.
I step outside and feel only the warmth of the sun. I round the corner on the block that leads to the parade grounds, just outside the park’s southwest entrance. The street is wide, quiet, shaded. There is no one outside, no one to nod at, make eye contact with, step around.
I enter the parade grounds and run past fields full of children, my eyes fixed straight ahead. To my left, a middle-school football team is doing speed and endurance drills, dancing frantically on their toes and dropping down for push-ups. Two boys swing a bat lazily to my right, smacking a baseball into the same bulged-out spot on the chain-link. It hits the fence with a loud bong as I run past, but I do not flinch. I reach the edge of the park, tennis courts to my right.
There at the park’s mouth, my heart stirs, and I feel a peculiar elation. I recognize her. Greta is somewhere nearby. I feel her energy, playfully expectant. Come find me, Daddy, she says. Tears spring and run freely down my face. I hear you, baby girl, I whisper. Daddy’s coming to get you.
Elated, I enter the park and immediately spot her; she is waiting for me, hiding behind the big tree in the clearing between the Vanderbilt playground and the duck pond. She appears from behind the tree with a flourish, giggling, just like in our old game: She would run out into the hallway from the bedroom where we had been playing, either naked or in her diaper, and cast me an impish look, asking, “Where’s Greta?” I would feign great perplexity, turning over small toys on the floor to see if she was under them, peeking behind the couch, clutching my head in mock terror. “Oh no, what have we done?” I would moan. “We’ve lost her!” She would laugh, run back in, and announce, “Greta came right back!”
Standing in the park, staring at her, I make a strange and primal sound, deep and rich like a belly laugh, hard and sharp like a sob. You are here. You picked the park. Good choice, baby girl. Oblivious to the people around me, I run to her. She wiggles in anticipatory joy. Stooping down, I scoop her up under her soft armpits, her shoulder blades meeting at the pads of my fingers, and I lift her up into the sky. She is invisible to passersby — to them, there is nothing in the spot next to the tree where she stands laughing and clapping but a patch of grass, and there is nothing in my arms but air. But she is not here for them; she is here for me.
She gazes down at me, her smile that turned crooked at the bottom like mine crumpling her wide-open face. I bend my arms and lower her face down to mine and kiss her, slowly. Then I set her back down in the grass.
You stay here, okay? I say. Daddy’s going for a run, okay, sweetie pie?
Oh yeah, okay! she says back.
I turn around and begin running hard along the perimeter of the pond, where we had dipped her hand in the water, splashing and saying, “Here we go, ducks! Here we go!” The...
Au sujet de l’auteur-
JAYSON GREENE is a contributing writer and former senior editor at Pitchfork. His writing has appeared in The New York Times, Vulture, and GQ, among other publications. This is his first book. He lives in Brooklyn with his wife and son.
Critiques-
March 15, 2019 A Brooklyn-based music journalist's account of his 2-year-old daughter's accidental death and his journey to acceptance of her passing.One day, Greene and his wife, Stacy, left Greta with her grandmother. Shockingly, a brick from an eighth-story windowsill fell on Greta's skull, causing irreversible brain damage. Overcome with grief and guilt for having "failed this little person so completely," the couple struggled to fit the shattered pieces of their life together again. "Grief at its peak has a terrible beauty to it," he writes, "a blinding fission of every emotion." A bitter rage made Greene hate the "unexamined happiness" of the people--especially parents--he saw around him while Stacy was forced to confront not only her own anguish, but that of her mother. After feeling Greta's presence in a local park, the author suddenly realized that "there will be more light upon this earth for me." He and Stacy began attending grief workshops, one of which included a medium who encouraged them to "pay attention to signs" from their loved ones. They also decided to leave the home where Greta "padd[ed] agreeably around every corner" and start a new life--complete with what they hoped would one day be another child--elsewhere in the city. They took up yoga while Greene "became a prospector for safe screaming spaces" where he could release pent-up emotional suffering. After the couple discovered they were pregnant, they went to see a ceremonialist in New Mexico who they hoped would help them process Greta's death along with the impending birth of the son who would never know his sister. The powerful visions of death and rebirth they experienced helped them to understand and embrace the brokenness within themselves with love, grace, and gratitude. Compassionate and sensitively told, Greene's story accomplishes an exceptionally difficult feat: transforming tragedy into both a spiritual journey and a celebration of wonder.A poignantly uplifting memoir of moving forward after terrible loss.
COPYRIGHT(2019) Kirkus Reviews, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Starred review from April 1, 2019
On a Sunday morning in spring, two-year-old Greta Greene was resting on a bench on Manhattan's Upper West Side with her grandmother when the unthinkable happened--a piece of debris fell from the building above them and knocked her unconscious. She died the next day. In this unforgettable memoir, author Greene, Greta's father (contributing editor, Pitchfork Media), writes about what happened after the accident as he and his wife began a journey of healing. They explore different grief-support options and enroll in a retreat called "From Grieving to Believing," where they consult a medium who tells them to pay attention to signs. They also join a local group for bereaved parents and lash out at the moderator after she's aggressive and inappropriate. The author occasionally seeks out empty New York streets and screams into the vacantness. But eventually, in the wake of their sorrow, they choose hope, deciding to have another child. VERDICT After suffering an unimaginable loss, the author's ability to pursue fatherhood again while still honoring the daughter he lost is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and its capacity to love. Heartbreaking and inspiring. [Prepub, 11/26/18]--Erin Shea, Ferguson Lib., CT
Copyright 2019 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.
April 15, 2019 Journalist Greene went through perhaps the most horrifying experience possible for a parent and lived to tell about it in clear, richly detailed prose. The author's two-year-old daughter, Greta, was sitting on a bench outside a Manhattan building with her grandmother when a chunk of brick from a windowsill fell from the eighth floor and hit Greta's head. She was rushed to the hospital, where she was declared brain dead, leaving Greene and his wife, Stacy, to say goodbye while waiting for her organs to be donated. This gripping memoir follows the couple into and out of the depths of grief, through ordinary and less ordinary days, as suicidal despair alternates with howling anger at the universe, and as they make the fraught decision to try to have another child. Greene, remarkably, pays as much attention to the particulars of the people and places around him as he does to his own unsugarcoated experience of the tentative but real return of hope and pleasure in life.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2019, American Library Association.)
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