A Heart That Works

by Rob Delaney

A visceral and deeply personal memoir by the star of the Amazon Prime series  Catastrophe ,  about love, loss, and fatherhood. In 2016, Rob Delaney’s one-year-old son, Henry, was diagnosed with a brain tumor. The family had moved from Los Angeles to London with their two young boys when Rob’s wife was pregnant with Henry, their third. The move was an adventure and a challenge that would bind them even more tightly together as they navigated the novelty of London, the culture clashes, and the funhouse experience of Rob’s fame—thanks to his role as co-creator and co-star of the hit series  Catastrophe . Henry’s illness was a cataclysm that changed everything about their lives. Amid the hospital routine, surgeries, and brutal treatments, they found a newfound community of nurses, aides, caregivers, and fellow parents contending with the unthinkable. Two years later, Henry died, and his family watched their world fall away to reveal the things that matter most.  A Heart That Works  is Delaney’s intimate, unflinching, and fiercely funny exploration of what happened – from the harrowing illness to the vivid, bodily impact of grief and the blind, furious rage that followed through to the forceful, unstoppable love that remains. In the madness of his grief, Delaney grapples with the fragile miracle of life, the mysteries of death, and the question of purpose for those left behind.  Delaney’s memoir—profound, painful, full of emotion, and bracingly honest—offers solace to those who have faced devastation and shows us how grace may appear even in the darkest times.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Audiobook, Grief, Biography, Biography Memoir, Death

192 pages, Paperback

First published October 20, 2022

About the author

I'm a comedian. I wrote a book called Rob Delaney: Mother Wife Sister Human Warrior Falcon Yardstick Turban Cabbage. I love to read.

Reviews

[Emma Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

A few weeks ago, my grief therapist texted me a link to a video with the message along the lines of, "I won't send you every grieving parent interview, but this one you have to see." It was this author on The One Show talking about the passing of his two-year-old son to brain cancer and how he'd written a memoir about it.

I had no idea it was going to be Rob Delaney, he who is beloved by me for the small, but crucial role of Peter in Deadpool 2 (X-Force!)

(I'm also under the general suspicion that he and David Harbour are the same person. It's the mustache. Have they ever been in the same room together? Just saying.)

I watched the interview and raced to buy the book...which was weeks from release. And it was because this author said something I felt like I'd been waiting to hear since June of 2018 when my 10 year old daughter Isabel, who spent five days on an ECMO, passed away from a cardiac arrest. And that was that he wanted to "write something very angry and hurt people." He didn't, by the way. There is righteous anger in this beautiful book, but I identified instantly with that sentiment without him having to explain why.

In that moment, I knew this book would unlock the last door that has thus far prevented me from writing my own memoir. And I was right. Here was raw honesty that’s been missing from my imaginary rough drafts that alternated between fluffy unicorns and rainbows, to shoving the worst, hardest, most effed up parts at readers and saying, BEHOLD MY SUFFERING, FOR IT IS GREATER THAN THINE, whether that's true or not.

So I mentally gave it 5 stars right out the gate.

The next step was to actually read it, which I did in a few short hours, alternately laughing my ass off, crying, or staring in disbelief at the serendipities in our experiences: from the importance of Joan Didion, to memorial tattoos (I have a sleeve of them) to a loved one's suicide, to our children dying in 2018 on our birthdays. Plus, a host of micro-similarities that only come from having an inkling of what the writer is talking about. I am by no means an authority on his grief, but I'm in the club and I get it. And reading this book was him saying to me, "I get it."

After [Henry] died, I had the odd sensation of somehow being older than my parents, or at the very least having seen something that they hadn't, and it had changed me. ...No one had anything to offer me that could light my path and show me a way forward...That was a very sad and lonely feeling.

This entire book could have been that paragraph only, and I'd have considered it money well spent.

For grieving parents, this book is a path forward. For those struggling to know what to do for a grieving parent, this book is a path forward. My protectiveness over this book and everything in it might be irrational but anyone giving it one star can go "gargle a big bowl of diarrhea." Until you walk a mile, and all that. Because when you lose a beautiful, kind, sweet child every day forward on this earth needs a trigger warning. The blinders come off, and the blurred line between what is bullshit and what is real and true evaporates, and sometimes you just want to burn it all down.

And lest this review devolve into being all about me (too late!) it bears reiterating that the book is funny as hell. Darker, angrier, even funnier thoughts about losing a child share space with the grace and beauty inherent in such an experience, and it should. The metric fuck-ton of hard stuff makes everything else all the more precious. To leave it out is to miss the point entirely, so I appreciate (such a weak word) the honesty in this book for mashing them both together and saying, "You might never know this, I hope you never know this, but THIS is what it is."

I am inspired and grateful for this book.

Another thing I know, is that a lost child slipping out of the memories, or thoughts, or the consciousnesses of the rest of the world, (that continues to chug on despite the enormous hole carved out of your soul) is another kind of agony.

When I light my nightly candle to Izzy, I'll add Henry to my thoughts and be grateful for him too.

[Rob Delaney · Rating 5 out of 5]

Book is okay but the man & little boy on the cover are very handsome.

[Angela Lawman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read this entire book in one sitting. Cried all the way through apart from when I was bawling, rather than sobbing. Finished it and went straight upstairs to hug my son. What a story.

Rob and his pregnant wife moved from America to London for work with their two young sons. When Henry was born, they had their family and a new home life in England. Until one day, just before Henry’s first birthday, he started to vomit. So began a journey of medical diagnoses and experiences that are beyond my comprehension.
This is the story of Henry’s short but so loved life, written beautifully by a father whose life was transformed first by cancer and then by grief.
Read it. Even though I sobbed all the way through I would highly recommend it.
RIP Henry, a beautiful boy.

[Sharon Orlopp · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rob Delaney, comedian and writer, shares the painful journey of his third son, Henry, being diagnosed with a brain tumor at age one. Henry passes away a year and a half later after many surgeries and chemo treatment.

I listened to this powerful, emotional, and at times, humorous, memoir. Delaney does a terrific job narrating daily life of his family as they traversed unknown territory. His experience provides insights on how to handle traumatic events that occur to each of us or to our friends and families.

[Traci Thomas · Rating 5 out of 5]

Holy cow. This is so very good. I read a lot of grief & death memoirs & this is one of best easily. He nails the sad stuff, but also the heart, & humor, & bitterness. His perspective isn’t riddled with cliches.

[Matt Mcgorry · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m going through a life changing trauma right now and as Rob says, there’s a grim comfort on hearing about others pain. It’s beautifully written and is the first book, in a long time, to make me cry. Thanks Rob. Oh, and fuck you God. Fuck you straight up your butt.

[Kay · Rating 3 out of 5]

Much use of the F word. Some places it was definitely warranted. Other places not so much. Yes he was grieving from a devastating loss however the author diminishes the loss of a pet saying it’s just a step above the loss of an old senior grandfather that should be filled with tumors. How dare he think his loss is the only one that matters. He is bitter to the point that he appears to have no empathy for anyone else who has a loss, especially if that person is elderly. No need to lessen others grief and compare to your own. There’s plenty of grief for everyone.

[Rain · Rating 5 out of 5]

Absolutely gutted me. I felt the need to listen to Rob tell his story, to sit and hold that space for him.

I think this book is a small gift to others who are grieving. It doesn’t give any answers, but Rob’s beautifully vulnerable journey helps wrap us in a blanket that we are not alone in our feelings. Lots of pain and grief with a dose of humor.

So much love to this family.

[Stephanie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This quick read from one of my favorite comedians about a devastating subject matter happens to be genuinely funny, uniquely insightful, and ever so delicately stomach-sinking. I so appreciate his thoughts throughout on how important art was (is) to him and his family during his baby son’s illness and death; for me, this book has become one the many various pieces of art that has helped me make sense of my own grief. Thank you for it Rob.

[Elyse Walters · Rating 5 out of 5]

“In those first few hours at Great Ormond Street Hospital, we’d seen Henry’s type of tumor before. They were calm, purposeful. We were disoriented, and in shock. Hours after his admission, they decided they had to do an emergency surgery to relieve pressure on Henry’s brain so he didn’t hemorrhage or have a stroke.”

“For a good while after season three of ‘Catastrophe’ came out, I didn’t even know if we’d do a fourth. Channel 4 in the UK and Amazon in the US both wanted more episodes, but making the third season had been very difficult. Henry was in the hospital while we wrote and shot it, and I really didn’t like not being with him all day every day”.


A VERY SAD STORY!!!

Paul and I were big fans of the show *Catastrophe*

[Jennifer Wright · Rating 5 out of 5]

Everyone who rated a memoir about a father's 2 year old son dying 1 star is going to hell. Also, this is excellent. You will sob, and then, if you have kids, you will hug them.

[Tracy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was curious what kind of asshole would give this book only 1 star, and it seems to be predominantly schmucks who can’t handle swearing. Seriously? I dare you to nurse your child to their death without quite a few f-bombs. Bugger off, you insensitive pricks. Grief IS a rainbow of emotions. Sometimes beauty envelopes grief in a glorious prism; other times, the intense gravity of grieving manifests as a black hole. ‘A Heart that Works’ captures this wicked coexistence quite stunningly.

[Sheila · Rating 2 out of 5]

I received a free copy of A Heart That Works, by rob Delaney, from the publisher and Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. The story of little Henry and his unsuccessful battle with cancer is sad, but his fathers crassness made the book hard to read.

[Alexander Peterhans · Rating 5 out of 5]

"I dream about Henry often. I dream he’s alive, and in those dreams it’s not as though he was never sick. He’s the Henry that might have survived, some possible future where he still needed help with a few things. So in my dreams, I’m still caring for him. We do things together; I even take him with me to work. In some dreams, he’s recovered, and sometimes his cranial nerves have been repaired somehow, and it all works out. He runs into his mother’s arms. He plays with his brothers, or even fights with them, and I love it all."

A heartwrenching and funny memoir of Delaney's time losing his youngest son, Henry. It's a very layered book, effortlessly switching from the very personal to almost an outsider's view. Obviously not an easy read, but very moving.

I love how Delaney writes about Henry, always introducing him in words like 'my beautiful boy', forever reminding you how much he misses him. Overall, his writing flows well, and can be quite.. peppery, regarding cursing, if that's something that is important to you (if you can't curse when your child is dying, when can you?).

To make things almost impossible, more death visits the Delaney family, and it makes the sadness almost insurmountable. But of course they have to deal with it.

When Henry finally dies, Delaney very specifically ropes off what he will and won't tell the reader:

"I will not tell you anything else about the moments before or after Henry’s death. I can talk about them, but I don’t want to try to confine them to ink. Maybe you have experienced something like them, or maybe someday you will."

I thought that was a very admirable and strong choice. In the end, its their story.

"I find myself in a state of disbelief again. My son died? He got sick and they couldn’t cure him and he died? And now he’s dead? He was cremated and we had a memorial for him? I talk myself through it so I can almost believe it. I talk to him—out loud—and tell him I miss him and I wish I could still care for him."

I think you should read it.

(Thanks to Spiegel & Grau for providing me with a review copy through Edelweiss)

[Julie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a truly poignant memoir about the loss of a young son after undergoing treatment for a brain tumor. I felt compelled to keep reading even though I knew the outcome would result in the family processing the catastrophic loss of Henry. Rob Delaney writes in a way that kept me glued to the page. He expresses the rainbow of emotions he and his family experienced as he walks us through Henry's short life.

Standout quotes:

"When you're a parent and your child gets hurt or sick, not only do you try to help them get better, but you're also animated by the general belief that you can help them get better."

Description of the midwife: "She had a thick Scottish accent and wore a hijab - an impossibly British collision of attributes that was wonderful."

"Grief drove a bus through the part of my brain where memories are stored."

Describing how he and his sister are there for each other: "When one of us cries to the other, we don't try to fix it; we don't stammer platitudes. We just listen and hold."

Regarding the passing of time: "I'm not exactly in the sunset of my life, but I have definitely eaten lunch."

[Sarah Risser · Rating 2 out of 5]

Like a few others, I was surprised at how well this book was reviewed and wonder if the poignant, heart-wrenching, subject matter drives 5-star reviews more than the actual quality of the writing. I too have lost a child. Also named Henry. I've read as many books on the subject as I can find.

But - I can hear you say - Rob Delaney is an award-winning writer! Yes, yes he is; however, I believe his awards are for scripts and comedy. If this is a true example of his attempts at branching beyond, I think he should turn around now. The book is full of expletives, which not only gets super tedious, it makes me think Delaney is either lazy or unskilled at conveying the many facets of complicated grief. It's a little disorganized as well.

I read this book in one day. It's an easy, heart-breaking, read. Still, there are far better books on child loss. Death be not Proud is masterful and even the quirkily-titled How Much Big is the Sky do a far better job at conveying the grief and pain of losing a beloved child.

[Jane · Rating 5 out of 5]

this was raw and heart crushing

[Allison · Rating 3 out of 5]

I don’t want to be completely hard hearted, but though I expected to be totally torn up about this memoir of the death of a young and innocent child, it left me curiously unmoved. As I analyze my response I think it is because it is all about the author. It is pages and pages of blog postings and stand up routines about how Henry’s death affected Rob Delaney and how much Rob Delaney grieved and how much Rob Delaney loved his family.
I’ve read plenty of accounts of tragic deaths beginning with John Gunther’s Death Be Not Proud, and grieved the loss til the last page and beyond. Rob Delaney tries too hard to fill up written space with showy anecdotes. I think he would have done better to be still and let the reader feel the loss for himself.

[Sierra · Rating 5 out of 5]

An expert lesson in How to Cry on the Bus

[Aoife Cassidy McM · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read an excerpt of Rob Delaney's book A Heart That Works in the Sunday Times last autumn. After reading the article and crying through most of it, I knew that I both wanted to, and simultaneously didn't want to, read the entire book. My four children are the same age as the author's which makes it all the more painful and heartrending to read.

The book is a beautiful and heartbreaking tribute to the author's son Henry. Henry died tragically young at the age of 2 of a malignant brain tumour. He is immortalised in these pages, a brave and beautiful boy.

Delaney runs the gamut of human emotions - love, happiness, fear, sadness, anger, despair, acceptance - and he does it with dark humour and grace. The book is a moving and intelligent reflection on life and on death more generally, and the fate that awaits us all at one time or another.

All of the proceeds of the book will go to children's hospice charities so even if you can't bring yourself to read the book, it's worth buying a copy.

[Kristi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Omg sugar bear! This book, especially audiobook gave me all the feels. And I never laughed and filled with tears simultaneously so much. I just want to hug the family and laugh with them and say fuck off too. 😭🥰😍❤️

[Kerry · Rating 5 out of 5]

What makes us human? When the really impossible situations come along in life how do we respond?
This is a story about grief and death, parenthood and how things can go impossibly wrong. It is the story about a family but mostly about a father and his son. Rob Delaney is a wonderful man and this book tells tragic but heartfelt memoir of how he copes when his son is found to have a brain tumor. It is not easy reading but it is so beautiful. I hope many will find the courage to read about this most difficult to think about subject and find how love and kindness and just being there can make a difference for the people, families involved.

It was masterful, bring some tissues. I learned so much, about grief, joy, forbearance, kindness and family. A great read.

The audio is read by the author. Not sure how he did it but a great job.

[reading is my hustle · Rating 5 out of 5]

the fact that delaney's relationship with his wife leah deepens throughout the unthinkable tells me everything i need to know about this family. i ugly cried. i might come back to this & write a proper review but for now i'll leave it as is.

[Leah · Rating 5 out of 5]

I spent my birthday reading an advance copy of Rob Delaney’s A Heart That Works. Rob’s son Henry died in early 2018. I remember reading Rob’s post about Henry’s death while lying in bed with my son Miles as he was falling asleep next to me. I sobbed as quietly as I could reading Rob’s words and thinking “I can’t imagine.” A few months later, Miles was killed at age 5. Since then, I have felt a connection with this family I have never met, and I always look for Rob’s words about his son and about grief. They help me.

It’s no surprise, then, that this book helped me. Every bereaved parent’s story is as unique and their own as the perfect tiny human they created and their relationship with them, but there are touchpoints that we all share. Reading Rob’s book, I found myself welling up with recognition at so many passages: the fog of grief (remembering someone’s name felt like “being asked to find an individual lentil in a warehouse a tornado had just blown through”), finding comfort in disturbing TV shows and movies (“watching a fictional character go crazy from grief feels like getting into a warm bath”), changed relationships (“I had the odd sensation of being older than my parents, or at the very least having seen something they hadn’t”), the stupid things people say to you, the wonderful people who show up, etc., but most of all, how your child and their death is with you every single second (“You forget that my son died. Then you remember. Then you forget again. I don’t forget.”)

Most important, A Heart That Works gives us the privilege of reading about one of Rob’s unique and perfect tiny humans, Henry—about the devastating brain cancer and what it took from him, yes, but also about Henry’s joys, his love, and his blue eyes. Rob’s writing is direct and honest, honed to well-crafted memorable points that stick into you. And of course, there’s humor—yes, you will laugh while reading a book about a child’s death and a parent’s fathomless grief. But mostly, you’ll feel grateful to Rob for doing the deep and difficult work of putting these huge things into words and sharing them with us.

At one point, Rob describes reading The Year of Magical Thinking and says, “Didion made me feel less alone.” This book will do that for bereaved parents—you will feel less alone. For everyone else, it’s a beautiful book about life, death, pain, love, and a wonderful little boy named Henry and the family who loves him so much.

[Valleri · Rating 4 out of 5]

Many thanks to both Spiegel & Grau and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review an early copy of A Heart That Works.

A Heart That Works is Mr. Delaney’s intimate, unflinching, exploration of what happened – from the harrowing illness to the vivid, bodily impact of grief and the blind, furious rage that followed through to the forceful, unstoppable love that remains.

This was a deeply moving book. Honestly, I can't imagine the agony Mr. Delaney and his family experienced. Henry Delaney was a year old when he was diagnosed with a tumor the size of an apple on his brain stem. He was two when he died. A Heart That Works is a brilliant telling of his son's short life from birth, to cancer diagnosis, through treatment, and ultimately his death. This just isn't the way life is supposed to go. You're supposed to be born, you grow up, you get old, and THEN you die.

I will never, ever forget sweet Henry.

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

Delaney is an American actor who was living in London for TV filming in 2016 when his third son, baby Henry, was diagnosed with a brain tumour. He died before the age of three. The details of disabling illness and brutal treatment could not be other than wrenching, but the tone is a delicate balance between humour, rage, and tenderness. The tribute to his son may be short in terms of number of words, yet includes so much emotional range and a lot of before and after to create a vivid picture of the wider family. People who have never picked up a bereavement memoir will warm to this one.

[Jennifer White · Rating 3 out of 5]

Delaney's book read as part thank you note to everyone who has ever cared for his son, part comedy show, part self-help book to parents who might also have a very sick child, part diary of grief and part critique of the American health care system. This inability to establish a clear audience impacted the quality of the writing.

At the same time, I did feel such heartbreak for Delaney. He so clearly loved his son, as is evidenced by his descriptions of tenderly cleaning his tracheotomy hold or running his fingers through his long blond hair. There were times he brought me near tears, like when he and his wife first got to hold him after his brain surgery. Even though their son died before three-years-old, the couple managed to find moments of beauty and laughter and family.

Despite my three stars, I am glad to have read this; in fact, I spent all afternoon with it open in my lap (instead of doing laundry). If anything, his book has prompted me to spend the rest of the day running my fingers through my children's hair.

[Jenna · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a beautiful, beautiful book. I cried through a quarter of it. The five year anniversary of Conor’s passing from brain cancer is approaching and Rob Delaney puts into words SO well what that experience is like. This book is raw and heartbreaking and of course, since he’s a comedian, it’s just the right amount of funny. I want to say so much more about it but don’t feel I can do it justice.

PS - 100% of the money earned from this book is being donated to children’s hospice care, so you should buy a copy even if you don’t read it.

[Mary Bemis · Rating 2 out of 5]

A beautiful tribute to his son.

I enjoyed getting to know Henry through his father's book. He was an amazing little boy . The thing I had a hard time with was all the foul language he used in his book. I can't believe his book would be any less if the foul language was switched out with normal words.

[Liz · Rating 5 out of 5]

I can’t remember the last time I plowed through a prose book in one-sitting, but I could not put this one down. It’s so heart breaking and life affirming at the same time. I was disarmed by how much I laughed and cried while reading this one.