Good Grief: Embracing Life at a Time of Death

In the book, Catherine Mayer also explores whether her husband, musician Andy Gill, may have been one of Britain's earliest victims of COVID-19. She criticizes the response to the pandemic by governments on both sides of the Atlantic, and shines a spotlight on the social inequalities it exposed, campaigning for them to be addressed.

With grief as its subject matter and coronavirus as its backdrop, this book has a wide appeal. We will all experience loss at some point in our lives, and we've all been touched in some way by the pandemic. This book is for anyone who wants to feel less alone in their grief, or understand the impact of bereavement on other people so they can respond appropriately. Readers who are newly bereaved or struggling to come to terms with past losses will find solace in this book. It's also for those who'd like to know more about the spread of coronavirus in the U.K..

Catherine Mayer is a best-selling author, award-winning journalist, and activist. She's the co-founder of the Women's Equality Party, a U.K. political party launched in 2015, and the Primadonna Festival, which celebrates writing, music, and ideas. Her previous books include "Amortality: The Pleasures and Perils of Living Agelessly," and a biography of Prince Charles.

Her mother, Anne Mayer Bird, is an arts publicist who's worked for some of Britain's leading theaters and serves on the board of two of them.

So, keep listening to hear the importance of preparing for death, what to say and what not to say to the bereaved, and why we must respect everyone's individual journey through grief.

Before we look more closely at the authors' advice, let's first understand the scale of the loss they experienced and the events that led to them being united in widowhood.

Mayer Bird was 86 when her husband, John, died of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, known as COPD, and a form of blood cancer. He was a year older than her. The couple had been married for 39 years. His death, in December 2019, left Mayer Bird living alone for the first time in her life.

41 days later, Andy Gill, lead guitarist for the British rock band Gang of Four, died, aged 64. The cause of Gill's death was listed as multiple organ failure and pneumonia, but was that accurate? Mayer questions whether Gill contracted coronavirus while touring China with his band in November of the previous year – challenging the official timeline of when the disease reached the U.K. and criticizing the British government's preparedness for it. Mayer and Gill, who also produced records for the Red Hot Chili Peppers and The Stranglers, had been married for 29 years.

One month after Gill's death, Britain entered a national lockdown to stem the spread of the virus. Strict measures limited social interactions. Mayer took on the role of her mother's caregiver, visiting every week to help with household tasks, at a distance and wearing a mask. When the chores were done, the two women sat and talked. Their conversations inform this book.

"Good Grief" also includes a series of letters Mayer Bird wrote to her late husband, starting some three months after he died, a practice that enabled her to express feelings that had remained hidden behind a brave face. In these poignant letters, she shares the news of coronavirus and of Gill's death, as well as her loneliness and the frustrations of managing his untidy affairs.

The loss of a life partner would be significant enough, but the authors' experience of grief goes far beyond their husbands. Mayer Bird lost her father and her brother in swift succession when she was a child, and her stepfather when she was an adult. Mayer counts 20 people close to her who've died in the past three decades, including her step-sister and her best friend. The authors' intention in writing this book is to share their experience in the hope of easing, what Mayer calls, the "avoidable stress and distress" that can accompany death.

One of the primary causes of this stress and distress is our reluctance to talk about death or prepare for it, so let's explore what the authors say on the topic.

Mayer recounts how she and Gill built careers in the media and music industries that required commitment, planning, and organization. They navigated legal battles and lawsuits. They debated politics and current affairs. Yet they weren't prepared for death, and they hadn't talked about it, despite Gill's declining health. The guitarist suffered with sarcoidosis, an inflammatory disease that targeted his lungs, for which he'd been hospitalized. Still, he continued with a grueling work schedule, including that tour of China with his band, the Gang of Four.

Gill died without a will, and while he was clear about what he wanted to happen with his music after his death, he didn't share his wishes for his funeral or his final resting place. He also died without sharing the secret of how to fix the TV when it broke, Mayer writes with characteristic dry humor.

Similarly, Mayer Bird wasn't prepared for her husband's death, confessing to feeling "complete terror" about her ability to cope without him. Coaxing the TV back to life after she pressed the wrong button on the remote was also her husband's domain, along with the joint finances, the cooking, and the gardening. Fortunately, her husband did leave a will and specify his burial place.

Anyone who's been bereaved will be familiar with the bureaucracy that accompanies grief, which Mayer terms "sadmin" or "dread tape" – the red tape of death. The burden of sadmin is much greater when people die without wills, without expressing their final wishes, and without leaving important documents and vital information – like login passwords – in an obvious place.

We prepare for other big life events, why not for death, Mayer asks. For example, many pregnant women leave a hospital bag of essential items at their front door for the moment their waters break. Imagine if we prepared for death by leaving a sadmin kit containing important documents like passports and driving licenses, a list of passwords for our online banks, a signed will, names of people we'd like to attend our funeral or memorial service, and instructions for where we'd like to be buried or where we'd like our ashes scattered. We could also leave a step-by-step guide on how to reboot the TV, where to find the wifi code, when to weed and plant the garden – or similar, depending on the deceased's particular area of expertise.

The authors' experience of sadmin is highly relatable. We hear of Mayer Bird's almighty struggle to transfer her husband's supermarket loyalty card points to her own account. Her daughter recounts her frustration after realizing she'd disconnected her husband's cell phone too soon – she needed it to receive verification codes to access his online accounts. This is a helpful tip for anyone who finds themselves in the same position.

But it's not just about the paperwork. Both widows wonder what to do with their respective husband's stuff – clothes, shoes, and messy drawers full of bits and bobs.

Their anecdotes are thought-provoking, which may prompt some readers to take steps to put their affairs in order. Others might offer support to bereaved friends or relatives who are battling bureaucracy and staring at piles of belongings.

Practical support is invaluable, the authors note, so let's explore this further, along with other ways we can ease the burden for the bereaved.

The most supportive friends don't ask what you need, they just bring it, Mayer writes. Without the lunches and dinners people brought to her door, she may not have eaten in the first days after Gill died. To help with sadmin, she encourages friends of the bereaved to offer specific skills if they have them – to help organize the funeral or take charge of some administrative tasks. Legal knowledge will come in handy in some cases. If we don't have specific skills, we can simply offer a chunk of time, whatever we can manage – two hours a week, for example, or a Saturday afternoon.

The worst thing we can do is retreat. It is far better to do and say something rather than nothing. We may say the wrong thing, and the authors' have some cringe-worthy examples of this, but it’s generally better to say something. They supply lists of things to say and not to say to the grieving, drawing on their own experiences.

Here are a few things not to say: "at least it was quick"; "you'll find someone else"; "you're so brave;" and "it's good to be busy." Mayer also warns against the question, "how are you?" arguing that feelings change by the hour and the bereaved may prefer not to connect with and share their pain in that moment.

Instead, we can say things like: "want to hang out this weekend?"; "would you like help with organizing the funeral?"; and "I miss him or her too."

Talk about the dead, the authors suggest. Share some of your favorite photos. And make regular contact with the bereaved. Stay in touch. Do not disappear.

We like this advice. Saying something, rather than nothing, sounds like a helpful rule of thumb.

There's another piece of wisdom the authors share that merits a mention – the fact that everyone's journey through grief is unique. Mayer and her mother are composed in grief. They appear more functional and less fragile than one might expect. They don't let it all hang out, nor do they subscribe to the idea that tears are cathartic. For others, it will be different. They'll find solace through crying and through sharing their emotions with those who'll listen.

There's no right or wrong way to grieve. Rather, we must respect that it's an individual journey.

Similarly, the timeline for grief will differ from person to person. Some people will want and need longer than others – more time off work, more time away from social events – while others will want and need less. We won't know how we'll react until it happens to us.

"Good Grief" is packed with wise advice like this. The authors also warn against making major decisions too soon after a loved one's death. They highlight our tendency to idolize the dead, and alert the bereaved to the potential of being targeted by scammers, fraudsters, and criminals. Mayer Bird's confidence was knocked when she fell for a fraudster on the telephone. Thieves also tried to break into both their homes, prompting Mayer to sleep with a baseball bat by her bed.

Alongside such advice, there is moving personal testimony written with extraordinary vulnerability and, at times, dark humor. There’s also criticism of political leaders in their response to coronavirus, as well as references to deep social inequality, highlighted by the pandemic and other contemporary events, such as Brexit and the death of George Floyd at the hands of a police officer in the United States.

Mayer ends "Good Grief" with a call for change on several levels: change to create more equal societies, so that all lives and all deaths matter, and change to normalize death, so that we talk about it and prepare for it before it's upon us, and to pave the way for policies that support the bereaved.

So what's our last word on "Good Grief"?

We think it is an important, thought-provoking book that most readers will enjoy and benefit from, provided they know what to expect. As Mayer writes, "Good Grief" is based less on research into grief and death and more on the lived experiences of two recently widowed women. Their stories are intensely personal and we're given a window into the lives of two women, their extended families and their friendship groups. If the book weren't so well written, readers might get lost in the minutiae of other people's lives. As it is, we're drawn into their stories by an abundance of relatable details and excellent prose.

Fitting for a memoir, this book's structure is loose. Chapters overlap and memories are repeated. Social commentary and political opinion are mixed in with heartfelt letters, eulogies to the dead, and declarations of love. This loose structure reinforces one of the book's key messages: that life is messy. Grief is messy too, the authors write. It's non-linear. But grief means that we have loved.

"Good Grief: Embracing Life at a Time of Death," by Catherine Mayer and Anne Mayer Bird is published by HQ, an imprint of Harper Collins.

That's the end of this episode of Book Insights. Thanks for listening.