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Stories I Forgot to Tell You
Dorothy Gallagher’s husband, Ben Sonnenberg, the author of Lost Property: Memoirs and Confessions of a Bad Boy, died more than a decade ago. At the time of his death, he had suffered from multiple sclerosis for many years and was almost completely paralyzed, but his wonderful, playful mind remained quite undimmed. In the ten sections of Stories I Forgot to Tell You, Gallagher moves freely and intuitively between the present and the past to evoke the life they shared together and her life after his death, alone and yet at the same time never without thoughts of him, in a present that is haunted but also comforted by the recollection of their common past. She talks—the whole book is written conversationally, confidingly, unpretentiously—about small things, such as moving into a new apartment and setting it up, growing tomatoes on a new deck, and as she does she recalls her missing husband’s elegant clothes and English affectations, what she knew about him and didn’t know, the devastating toll of his disease and the ways the two of them found to deal with it. She talks about their two dogs and their cat, Bones, and the role that a photograph she never took had in bringing her together with her husband. Her mother, eventually succumbing to dementia, is also here, along with friends, an old typewriter, episodes from a writing life, and her husband’s last days. The stories Gallagher has to tell, as quirky as they are profound, could not be more ordinary, and yet her glancing, wry approach to memory and life give them an extraordinary resonance that makes the reader feel both the logic and the mystery of a couple’s common existence. Her prose is perfectly pitched and her eye for detail unerring. This slim book about irremediable loss and unending love distills the essence of a lifetime.
96 pages, Hardcover
Published October 13, 2020
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 34 reviews
November 1, 2023
Dorothy Ghallager erzählt ihrem verstorbenen Mann alltägliches, von den Tauben auf ihrem Balkon und den alten Freunden die aufs Land gezogen sind. Nach dem ich diese trivialen Erzählungen beendet habe, bleibe ich emotional tief berührt zurück den Tränen nahe. Warum? Ich habe keine Ahnung und doch bin ich so tief bewegt das mir die Worte fehlen.
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July 30, 2025HISTORIAS QUE OLVIDÉ CONTARTE es como la primera brisa del otoño que te roza la piel el último día de playa. Es un libro melancólico y hermoso, sutil y devastador.
Con su habitual maestría, Gallagher nos cuenta un puñadito de historias íntimas que le vuelven a la mente tras la muerte de su esposo. Son una manera de conmemorar algunos momentos clave de la relación que ambos compartieron durante décadas, pero también una celebración de la juventud que vivieron, de la ciudad que patearon, de las personas que fueron.
Siento auténtica devoción por esta autora. Todo lo que escribe me gusta. Está claro que la mejor obra para acercarse a su escritura es DE CÓMO RECIBÍ MI HERENCIA, pero este librito de relatos es muy especial.
Su estilo afilado, sus circunloquios, la generosidad al servirnos su pasado en bandeja de plata, su habilidad para rematar siempre las historias de forma memorable… hacen que Dorothy Gallagher tenga un lugar muy especial en mi corazón y en mi biblioteca.
Con su habitual maestría, Gallagher nos cuenta un puñadito de historias íntimas que le vuelven a la mente tras la muerte de su esposo. Son una manera de conmemorar algunos momentos clave de la relación que ambos compartieron durante décadas, pero también una celebración de la juventud que vivieron, de la ciudad que patearon, de las personas que fueron.
Siento auténtica devoción por esta autora. Todo lo que escribe me gusta. Está claro que la mejor obra para acercarse a su escritura es DE CÓMO RECIBÍ MI HERENCIA, pero este librito de relatos es muy especial.
Su estilo afilado, sus circunloquios, la generosidad al servirnos su pasado en bandeja de plata, su habilidad para rematar siempre las historias de forma memorable… hacen que Dorothy Gallagher tenga un lugar muy especial en mi corazón y en mi biblioteca.
June 18, 2022
“So often these days I find myself thinking about things. Not lofty things, just things—objects, stuff. Things I have, things I had, things that once belonged to other people that are now mine by default, things I’ve given away, things that have vanished into the ether. Early in my life my mother noticed that I coveted the goods of this world. She saw a flaw in my character. ‘They’re only things, darling,’ she’d say, ‘they’re not important.’ I thought then that hers was surely the proper, more elevated perspective. These days I would answer her: Not so, Mama: things are evidence; life accumulates on them, like the snow that falls while you’re sleeping.”
February 17, 2021
Despite its slim volume, Gallagher manages to fill Stories I Forgot to Tell You with recollections and memories that are both sad and celebratory, mournful yet inquisitive. While the book is written to her late husband, Ben (often referred to as "you" throughout), I couldn't help feel as if some of these essays were written directly for me.
Like Gallagher, I think often of the serendipitous moments that I would have loved to capture, if only I would have remembered my camera ("Ballerina"). Or the simple things and objects in my life that carry so many memories through their own complex personal histories ("Snow"). Or something as simple as two pigeons nesting nearby on a nearby ledge can bring such unexpected happiness ("Pigeon Season').
At a virtual book event last week, Gallagher described her writing process for this book, and she described it as making sure every sentence was perfectly sound before moving onto the next. You can feel it. The writing is potent and assured. It's a book to savor.
I'm hoping that one of these days, I just may "stroll past 100th street and see an old lady muttering to the pigeons." If I see her, I will thank her. Her book is beautiful.
Like Gallagher, I think often of the serendipitous moments that I would have loved to capture, if only I would have remembered my camera ("Ballerina"). Or the simple things and objects in my life that carry so many memories through their own complex personal histories ("Snow"). Or something as simple as two pigeons nesting nearby on a nearby ledge can bring such unexpected happiness ("Pigeon Season').
At a virtual book event last week, Gallagher described her writing process for this book, and she described it as making sure every sentence was perfectly sound before moving onto the next. You can feel it. The writing is potent and assured. It's a book to savor.
I'm hoping that one of these days, I just may "stroll past 100th street and see an old lady muttering to the pigeons." If I see her, I will thank her. Her book is beautiful.
October 8, 2021
As if grieving a husband isn’t enough, a black cat dies in this. Might write a more coherent review when my heart heals from this quiet depiction of grief and solitude through the little things
July 30, 2025
estimo la manera de mirar i viure que inspira el llibre/l'autora
October 10, 2025
Nota: 4.5 sobre 5
Premisa:
Son los pequeños sucesos de la vida cotidiana los que permiten a Gallagher transmitir las consecuencias que genera la pérdida, la añoranza eterna, el anhelo latente y la compañía indiscutible de una figura que late en el ambiente y perdura a través de la memoria.
Opinión:
Cada vez aprecio más los textos que reflejan el día a día, sin añadidos forzados ni florituras impostadas. En este caso, la autora deja que su dolor se transforme y guíe la narración de diferentes circunstancias y acontecimientos relevantes vinculados con la huella que ha dejado su pareja. El dolor está presente, cómo no iba a estarlo, pero la aceptación ha tomado la delantera y se ha vuelto la protagonista de un relato que modela el procesamiento de un duelo.
La pérdida, ese germen indiscutible de creación y producción artística. Necesita tiempo, transformación y proceso, componentes que se alinean con la productividad, la necesidad de soltarlo y compartirlo, de dejarse acompañar por la añoranza sin llegar a subyugarse a ella. Se percibe que la autora escribe por defecto, como quien respira o bosteza cuando tiene sueño. Que su discurso nace de una necesidad irrevocable pero ha debido ser alimentado de hábito, trabajo, autoanálisis y mejora.
La potencia que puede tener la sedimentación del hasta siempre. Esa sensación de compañía infinita que traspasa la propia existencia, reflejo de una unión tan profunda que sólo puede ser una constante. De las que vertebran y originan algo real, con entidad y esencia. Y todo esto se percibe en los detalles cotidianos, esos gestos insignificantes que revelan lo que las palabras no abarcan.
Gracias a revelar su costumbrismo creo que los lectores tenemos la oportunidad de conocer un poco más a la autora, su forma de entender y sentir la realidad. Azuza así a nuestra empatía utilizando las herramientas precisas, situaciones tan habituales que resulta prácticamente imposible no encontrar similitudes con ellas.
Lo que me ha resultado más significativo de todo es que ha conseguido transmitirme paz, y pocos libros de duelo han logrado ese objetivo. Enarbola la aceptación como estandarte, y no hay mejor vehículo para procesar el dolor.
Premisa:
Son los pequeños sucesos de la vida cotidiana los que permiten a Gallagher transmitir las consecuencias que genera la pérdida, la añoranza eterna, el anhelo latente y la compañía indiscutible de una figura que late en el ambiente y perdura a través de la memoria.
Opinión:
Cada vez aprecio más los textos que reflejan el día a día, sin añadidos forzados ni florituras impostadas. En este caso, la autora deja que su dolor se transforme y guíe la narración de diferentes circunstancias y acontecimientos relevantes vinculados con la huella que ha dejado su pareja. El dolor está presente, cómo no iba a estarlo, pero la aceptación ha tomado la delantera y se ha vuelto la protagonista de un relato que modela el procesamiento de un duelo.
La pérdida, ese germen indiscutible de creación y producción artística. Necesita tiempo, transformación y proceso, componentes que se alinean con la productividad, la necesidad de soltarlo y compartirlo, de dejarse acompañar por la añoranza sin llegar a subyugarse a ella. Se percibe que la autora escribe por defecto, como quien respira o bosteza cuando tiene sueño. Que su discurso nace de una necesidad irrevocable pero ha debido ser alimentado de hábito, trabajo, autoanálisis y mejora.
La potencia que puede tener la sedimentación del hasta siempre. Esa sensación de compañía infinita que traspasa la propia existencia, reflejo de una unión tan profunda que sólo puede ser una constante. De las que vertebran y originan algo real, con entidad y esencia. Y todo esto se percibe en los detalles cotidianos, esos gestos insignificantes que revelan lo que las palabras no abarcan.
Gracias a revelar su costumbrismo creo que los lectores tenemos la oportunidad de conocer un poco más a la autora, su forma de entender y sentir la realidad. Azuza así a nuestra empatía utilizando las herramientas precisas, situaciones tan habituales que resulta prácticamente imposible no encontrar similitudes con ellas.
Lo que me ha resultado más significativo de todo es que ha conseguido transmitirme paz, y pocos libros de duelo han logrado ese objetivo. Enarbola la aceptación como estandarte, y no hay mejor vehículo para procesar el dolor.
July 5, 2023
Had to re-read because pain and love.
———
Short, sweet, not to the point. Dorothy’s collection of essays highlights the mundane moments that pass almost under your nose but hold so much meaning. It’s the way you miss someone not from one thing they said or did. It’s their being present in a room living their life at the same time you live yours. Her stories remind you to open your eyes and feel and forget to feel and then remember what you felt again. My only qualm was the ending. I felt it was so abrupt and not as powerful as it could have been, given all the content in the book. Definitely read this.
———
Short, sweet, not to the point. Dorothy’s collection of essays highlights the mundane moments that pass almost under your nose but hold so much meaning. It’s the way you miss someone not from one thing they said or did. It’s their being present in a room living their life at the same time you live yours. Her stories remind you to open your eyes and feel and forget to feel and then remember what you felt again. My only qualm was the ending. I felt it was so abrupt and not as powerful as it could have been, given all the content in the book. Definitely read this.
April 8, 2021
Deceptively simple and moving
Charming and touching collection of stories about life after losing her husband to MS. The stories are full of life and love. They focus on the small things that are so meaningful when gathered together. The book is like a warm chat with a friend you haven’t seen in ages, and have missed.
Charming and touching collection of stories about life after losing her husband to MS. The stories are full of life and love. They focus on the small things that are so meaningful when gathered together. The book is like a warm chat with a friend you haven’t seen in ages, and have missed.
December 16, 2020
Made me laugh and cry and learn new things (pigeons make milk??). Absolutely gorgeous
February 11, 2021
This book is, as the title suggests, stories, or, more accurately, thoughts and feelings Gallagher wishes she had shared with her late husband.
However, I think that this book is more of a chatharsis, because she is talking to her husband as though he can hear her. Does she believe he can? Or is it just her way of grieving?
As a Christian, it is sad to me to read memoirs like this because it is written from the viewpoint of something who has no faith and no hope. I can't imagine the horror of losing a loved one under those circumstances.
My mother passed away two weeks ago. Her faith has been made sight and though she can not return to me, I can go to her.
Memoires like Gallagher's throws that truth into sharp relief.
However, I think that this book is more of a chatharsis, because she is talking to her husband as though he can hear her. Does she believe he can? Or is it just her way of grieving?
As a Christian, it is sad to me to read memoirs like this because it is written from the viewpoint of something who has no faith and no hope. I can't imagine the horror of losing a loved one under those circumstances.
My mother passed away two weeks ago. Her faith has been made sight and though she can not return to me, I can go to her.
Memoires like Gallagher's throws that truth into sharp relief.
September 18, 2021
Stories I Forgot to Tell You
When I picked up Stories I Forgot To Tell You, I was ready for a guy punch. What could be more somber than a memoir dedicated to a deceased spouse? I’m sure there are some alternatives in the running but this theme has to be near the top. Part of my trepidation was thinking back to Blake Morrison’s And When Did you Last See Your Saw Father? which was definitely a gut punch focused a somber theme—death of a parent.
Surprisingly, Stories was more meditation than gut punch as Gallagher navigates the topic of her husband’s death by reflecting on her mother, her pets, pigeons and her working life. Of course, the common thread is her life with her husband, however rare are the moments where their common experience is not mediated through a friend or an event. This consistent mediation makes the one on one moments between husband and wife even more resonant.
Gallagher’s prose is poetic and profound and add to her deep reflections on life and death.
4 stars out of 5.
When I picked up Stories I Forgot To Tell You, I was ready for a guy punch. What could be more somber than a memoir dedicated to a deceased spouse? I’m sure there are some alternatives in the running but this theme has to be near the top. Part of my trepidation was thinking back to Blake Morrison’s And When Did you Last See Your Saw Father? which was definitely a gut punch focused a somber theme—death of a parent.
Surprisingly, Stories was more meditation than gut punch as Gallagher navigates the topic of her husband’s death by reflecting on her mother, her pets, pigeons and her working life. Of course, the common thread is her life with her husband, however rare are the moments where their common experience is not mediated through a friend or an event. This consistent mediation makes the one on one moments between husband and wife even more resonant.
Gallagher’s prose is poetic and profound and add to her deep reflections on life and death.
4 stars out of 5.
May 25, 2025
Ben, su marido, muere.
Ella le habla.
Ella escribe. Sobre matrimonio, viudedad y duelo. Y de una forma que me tiene enamorada.
Sus palabras sudan soledad.
Los objetos en los que piensa evocan recuerdos, un reloj de su marido o de su madre, una tela que recogió de un suelo y que le ha acompañado en sus distintas casas. Su máquina de escribir.
Y sus mascotas, dos perros y un gato, cada uno con su personalidad, su época, su tipo de acompañamiento.
No son tanto los tipos de recuerdos sino cómo los evoca, con gran naturalidad, con cercanía, siempre acabando con una mención a su querido Ben.
Novela corta, autobiográfica, honesta, íntima, libre de dramatismo, en esencia dulce en su simplicidad.
Ella le habla.
Ella escribe. Sobre matrimonio, viudedad y duelo. Y de una forma que me tiene enamorada.
Sus palabras sudan soledad.
Los objetos en los que piensa evocan recuerdos, un reloj de su marido o de su madre, una tela que recogió de un suelo y que le ha acompañado en sus distintas casas. Su máquina de escribir.
Y sus mascotas, dos perros y un gato, cada uno con su personalidad, su época, su tipo de acompañamiento.
No son tanto los tipos de recuerdos sino cómo los evoca, con gran naturalidad, con cercanía, siempre acabando con una mención a su querido Ben.
Novela corta, autobiográfica, honesta, íntima, libre de dramatismo, en esencia dulce en su simplicidad.
April 29, 2021
The publisher notes will tell you that it moves freely between the past and present within this slim volume. That’s technically accurate, but I can imagine some readers actually experiencing it as an undisciplined insubstantial investigation of emotional terrain that deserved more of both. All of that said, I did enjoy this on some level. There was something about the free flow of it that managed to communicate the long history and deep connection here between the mourned and who remains. The coin keeps flipping in grief’s current: life goes on/but they’re missing it.
February 11, 2021
Wistful afterwords to a departed partner – though one very much in residence within the souvenirs and shared objects (sofas, clothes, typewriters) and creatures (pets, pigeons) that measure the weight and duration of cohabitation. 10 stories – economic, minimal in their digressions, ironic for a small collection essentially given to digressions – pauses to recollect and value the shared inventory.
I think I liked "Chicken Pox" and "Julie" the best.
I think I liked "Chicken Pox" and "Julie" the best.
February 4, 2021
Gorgeous writing that tells a story of grief. It pays such homage to the relationships that Dorothy has/had in her life, from her mom, to her husband, to her cat even to some of her possessions. You want to savor every line. Dorothy Gallagher appears to live life fully and it shows in her writing.
February 23, 2021
Memorable
This is a lovely memoir written to a lost loved one. I don’t know how to describe the beauty of this writing. I’m grateful that the author shared her life with such warmth and feeling. It was a two tissue read and worth every minute.
This is a lovely memoir written to a lost loved one. I don’t know how to describe the beauty of this writing. I’m grateful that the author shared her life with such warmth and feeling. It was a two tissue read and worth every minute.
October 5, 2023
I feel bad giving this three stars but it's just... mediocre. there's a certain strain of book that's published as a favor once a writer's known enough publishers for long enough. sadly, this is one of those. I am very sorry her husband passed.
June 4, 2025
Ha sido mi primer contacto con Dorothy Gallagher y salgo del libro con ganas de leer más. En esta historia autobiográfica nos muestra una de las partes más vulnerables del ser humano: la etapa del duelo tras la pérdida de un ser querido. Gallagher perdió a su marido, pero lo recuerda a través de conversaciones que vuelven a la memoria, habla con él como si siguiera a su lado y lo tiene presente a través de los objetos más cotidianos que aparecen en el libro cargados de simbolismo. Qué bonito querer y recordar así. Una edición preciosa de Muñeca Infinita Editorial ❤️
April 24, 2021
An exquisite memoir in a short volume.
June 7, 2021
Quick read. Lightweight.
September 7, 2021
beautiful, lovely, tangential, erudite
June 26, 2022
things are evidence; life accumulates on them, like the snow that falls while you're sleeping.
February 2, 2023
I thought this book would make me cry, but it didn't.
May 2, 2023
lovingly done & a wonderful read. esp. the part about the typewriter!
no errors.
no errors.
July 23, 2023
sobbing
February 29, 2024
Listen my boy, I haven't gone soft in the head: Dead is dead, I know that. But where does that leave me? If not you, who will ever know that once I summered in Yalta?
February 9, 2025
slim, salvatory, incredibly sad
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October 14, 2025beautiful, moving, funny, and incisive. will seek out more by Gallagher.
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