Reviewed by Lauren Walters
Amie Souza Reilly’s piece “My Husband Knows I Love Pastries from Costco” crafts an environment that, two years ago, would have been devastating and nearly unheard of; today, the portrait of grief captured is much more common but perhaps no less devastating. But despite the weighty topics at hand, the piece remains optimistic about the human connection it suggests still exists.
The entirety of the paragraph-long piece unfolds as the narrator sits in their car and attends their great uncle’s funeral via Zoom. The narrator describes the buildings—”a dance studio and an Italian Deli that does not appear to be open”—outside the frost-rimmed windshield as they watch their “cousin cry at a podium with a malfunctioning mic.” Simultaneously, their husband’s friend’s funeral reception occurs “inside the bowling alley over to the right.” Through the narrator’s particular attention to the unexpected setting, Reilly skillfully builds a situation that feels, like many of our pandemic-adapted traditions, mundanely familiar and disturbingly new all at once.
The funerals described in the piece uproot the norms of such settings; there are no mentions of flowers, prayers, or comfort sourced from community and shared loss. Rather, the piece builds a sense of isolation further compounded by the strangeness of the surrounding buildings, which feel random and unwelcoming. This portrayal of grief thus toys with the performative expectations of these events while capturing an authentic albeit novel reality.
The true power of this piece, however, comes in the juxtaposition of that isolation with fond memories and an unyielding tenderness that interrupts the otherwise grim events. As the narrator adjusts their phone, they think of their husband and ask “(How many nights have we watched the moon rise over the ocean?)” Throughout the piece, such parenthetical inclusions in darkening shades of blue, depict intimate closeness in a setting otherwise wrought by disconnection and add both literal and figurative color to the piece. Though these moments of tenderness come as passing thoughts in the midst of a grim scenario, they linger and resound throughout the piece, almost defying their parenthetical confinement and softening the harshness of the world around them, though not muting it entirely.
With its deft construction and striking juxtaposition, Amie Souza Reilly’s “My Husband Knows I Love Pastries from Costco” persuades readers that there might be some truth in the maxim “love is in the little things.” While we shouldn’t and can’t expect love to wholly resolve the monumental issues in life, the piece suggests that maybe all we really need are the simple gestures that soften the blow, if but just a little.
You can read Reilly’s piece “My Husband Knows I Love Pastries from Costco” online at https://www.havehashad.com/hadposts/my-husband-knows-i-love-pastries-from-costco. She also has work in Catapult, SmokeLong, trampset, Barren, and elsewhere. You can find her on Twitter at @Smidgeon227 or on her website, amiesouzareilly.com.
Lauren Walters is an English and creative writing major at Lebanon Valley College. Beyond her studies, she also serves as the prose editor for Green Blotter, works as a writing tutor, and creates social media content for various organizations across campus. When she’s not reading and writing for class, you’ll likely find her reading and writing for fun, talking to herself, or having opinions about things at @l_ann18 on Twitter.