my modern classics

I read in a novel recently that grief lasts 18 months. I don't know if this was based on any research, and who defines grief and when it has come to an end. I suspect the amount of grief we feel depends on who we are grieving for, how big a part they played in our lives, how the loss came about, how in touch we are with our feelings and a whole host of other factors. I'm aware that three and a half years down the line since my husband left, I'm still grieving. I shared with a friend that it's now not every day that I cry, but there are still days when I cry several times. This isn't to say that there are not times when I'm happy, but the loss is still there and I sometimes wonder if it will ever go. Last night I was beginning to feel sorry for myself, so as a diversionary tactic, I started a list of books I've read in the last few years that I'm glad I did.
I'm now onto my tenth Robin Hobb book so clearly enjoy the world she has woven. but in other universes, I'd also recommend (in no particular order, my head doesn't do order):

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
Pompeii by Robert Harris
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime Mark Haddon
The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas John Boyne
The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
The Red Tent by Anita Diamant
We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver
The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
The Shack by William Paul Young

Today's the last day of the holidays and so I'm hoping we'll have a gentle day. There are (of course) household tasks, and I'm tempted to plant some flowers in the pots having cleared some yesterday. We'll see. Hope whatever you do it's lovely.
... Well I planted up some pots so the front garden looks better than it has done of late. Only I come back in and the kids have been making ice lollies and dog treats in the kitchen. As fast as I sort one area...