This is a memoir with a hook and it does its best to deliver on the opening pages, as Waite pores over a secret hard drive her husband kept. But it is a false bill of goods. The title tells you this is a book about grieving an awful person. But ultimately when you ask what this book is about, it is not about that. It is about making peace in grief. It is, kind of disappointingly, a rather basic grief memoir at the end of the day.
The grief memoir is one of the largest memoir subgenres, right up there with celebrities and addictions. And Waite's hook means it should be a useful entry. Grieving a person who made big mistakes is certainly a more interesting (and likely common) story than we get to hear about. But even when Waite is diving into her husband's secrets, or revealing the times when he was a difficult person in his life, it never comes together. It feels more like a collection of anecdotes. While the broad strokes move linearly through time, there is no clear path to follow.
After reading this entire book, I couldn't really tell you what this marriage was like. We get glimpses, but we do not get a clear narrative or a final tally. Of course a marriage is complicated and a marriage with infidelity and secrets and undiagnosed mental health issues is more complicated. But Waite only really gives us two modes: she is either searching for secrets or she is grieving a man she loved. And the more time that passes, the more we move from one to the other. We don't get a chance to reckon fully with those secrets, we don't get a chance to reconstruct how all this happened. We don't really get the chance to understand what it must be like for Waite to have to hold all these secrets when everyone else thinks Sean was such a great guy. I could not understand the happy parts of this marriage or the sad parts, not even just from Waite's perspective.
The writing is straightforward. Things veer pretty strongly into a new age direction in the last half, looking for signs and trying to identify messages from the dead. It's a weird contrast from the beginning of the book. I think this memoir suffers from a very common memoir problem: Waite is actually too close to the feelings and experiences. It's clear that what Waite really wants from this need to communicate with Sean is a chance for him to reckon with the things he's done, a chance for the two of them to find closure. It takes a long time for the book to recognize that this is what it's about: how Waite has to do the work her husband never had to do, how she has to bear all the consequences, tie up all the loose ends.
When the book is angry, it feels the most real. When it is looking for peace, it becomes a lot less interesting and doesn't really seem to know what to say anymore. I think it could have used a stronger structural edit, a deeper look at everything. A willingness to move beyond anecdotes, to really ask questions and find answers.
I cannot stop thinking about one piece in particular that Waite shares early on, while her husband was still alive, where he threatened violence right in front of their son. It's not that Waite ignores it, but she doesn't fully reckon with it either at the time or later. The porn, honestly, doesn't even matter all that much. It's classic opening chapter shock value stuff. But this, I just couldn't let it go even when the book had set it aside. It made it hard for me to feel good about Waite getting tearful at what she took as a message from him. There is an unspoken idea that this dead version of Sean is penitent, that he is reformed, that he is somehow fixed, that he isn't the same person that he was when he died. When, to me, I can't let that person go.
Perhaps that is one of the things a grief memoir has to do. Is learn to let go. And I am simply not reading a grief memoir correctly. But to me what's interesting about the story is that this man acted so badly and that he will never account for it, that he somehow still gets forgiveness and love without any remorse or amends. And that Waite isn't all that interested in what that means and how you deal with it.