This book was recommended by someone else as an example of good non-fiction writing. I actually picked it up with no idea what was coming. At first I resisted. I dislike the "death memoirs" and how predictable they often are. But Didion avoids that and speaks honestly about her confusion, her sense of loss, and her need to move forward. Being a good writer, she does this without all the drama. Considering that her only child, a recently married women, is in a coma herself when Didion's husband dies only adds to the possibility of melodrama. I've read comments by others that Didion is a snob who exists in a elite sphere of the world -- could be true. But it makes here experience no less real just because it is different. I cannot relate to her world and she probably cannot relate to mine, but death and loss are things we can both discuss.