I want to start by saying I sympathize with the author's loss and am deeply sorry for what she went through in losing her mother to the pandemic. However I still have to be honest in my assessment of her work. While it is by no means bad, with capable, fluid writing and an approachable tone, it's also nothing special. Having read multiple books about loss and grief because of my own history of familial death, I just didn't find anything in this first impression that sets the book apart from the myriad other memoirs like it that are available now. It's a straightforward account of the loss of a parent, which in and of itself is not a bad thing and I'm sure will be just the right selection for another person experiencing similar loss and grief. But for me, there was no sign of some greater life truth or growth discovered by the author as she processed her loss. There was nothing to indicate that her loss of her mother really impacted her life and outlook or changed any aspect of her as a person. While I understand that such works are a journey that unfolds over time, there also needs to be some indication going in of such things if that is what's to come. She even set herself up for this by including an introduction to prepare you for the reading of her story. But the introduction here only serves to summarize the work overall, to such a degree that I felt after going through it I didn't really need to read the rest of the book. She extends it to such a length that it seems she says all she actually intends to say in this first section. And unfortunately, what she has to say is old hat to a lot of us. Being a caregiver is hard, and a caregiver for a parent even more so. This is not a new idea. Sadly, the thing that struck me most about this memoir was how focused the author seemed to be on her own feelings and fears in the face of the pandemic in a book ostensibly intended to honor the memory of her late mother. She is entitled to talk about her feelings of course, but it seems that she may have been using her loss of a parent as an excuse to get them published. I am also (pettily perhaps) disappointed that she seemed not to have lived up to the promise of the title. "Grief and Grits" would indicate some kind of unique Southern or even culinary perspective on death and mourning, yet outside of the title, this is never brought in. I feel the book would be a lot more engaging and unique if she had leaned into this idea and used it to paint a more dynamic and complete picture of her mother and family. In short, I'm sure for a lot of people this is going to be a great resource for healing and processing emotions, but for those of us who have walked through this already, there isn't much new to be gleaned from Hill's musings.