Richard E. Grant writes to his late wife every night: ‘I can hear her response’


Richard E. Grant is such a splendid, witty spirit. He has a knack for telling it like it is with flair and humor — even when it’s devastating. Like with A Pocketful of Happiness, the collection of journal entries and letters he published last year to celebrate his 38 year marriage to Joan Washington, who died of cancer in 2021. Richard has been a dedicated diarist since age 10 (he started as a way to cope with a traumatic event), and I imagine the long habit is what helped him hone his skill at observing the world around him and recording it with candor. So it’s not all that surprising, but still deeply touching that Richard writes letters to his late wife every night to share with her the details of his days. And having been together for nearly four decades, Richard says “I can hear her response.” He discussed this nightly ritual with The Guardian, during an interview to promote his new series The Franchise. A few highlights:

What he writes to his late wife every night: “Everything,” he says. “Stuff I know would amuse her.” He looks at me steadily. “I’ll describe what you look like. What you’re wearing. How old you are. Do you have kids. All of that. She would want to know what your accent is, because that was her specialty. She would ask, ‘What did Alex sound like? What is the shape of his mouth? Does it open when he talks?’” The questions hang between us for a moment. “I have no spiritual or religious delusion that I’m ever going to get a reply. But after 38 years of marriage, I can hear what her response would be. It feels as close a connection as I can have. And I’ve found it very hopeful, that at the end of the day I’m having a conversation.”

‘The intimacy of conversation’: “The physical intimacy…” he begins. “Even if you’re in five hours of tantric sex with someone, it’s relative to the amount of time in your day — it’s a very small amount of time. Most of your life with somebody is spent in the intimacy of conversation. When you share absolutely everything with another human being, who sees you completely for who you are, to me that is unquantifiable.” He sighs, then adds, “What a thing to have.”

On the inadvertent, motivating impact his mother had on him: “She died a year ago, she was 93, and she withheld approval right up until her last breath. The lifelong habit to prove yourself to somebody, that doesn’t go away just because the person’s died…” He pauses. “I’ve seen people who have had more stable upbringings than I had who are less driven, less ambitious. The drive comes as a result of trying to prove wrong all the people I grew up with — who mocked the notion of me becoming a professional actor.”

A pivotal moment in his childhood: When Grant was 10, he awoke from a nap to find his mother having sex with his father’s best friend — they were all together in a car. “Saw my mother bonking,” is how he puts it to me. Grant kept the discovery to himself. When the pressure of his silence became too much, he let the secret spill out into the diary he has kept ever since.

He eventually reconciled with his mother at 42: “It took 18 months,” he says, “but we had a conversation in which she finally said three magic words: ‘Please forgive me.’” It was the first time Grant had revealed to his mother what he had witnessed in the car. “And she cried, which I’d never seen her do before.” The conversation was the “greatest epiphany” of Grant’s life. “I went from holding on to resentment and anger towards someone to forgiving them, and all of the pain shifted instantaneously.”

[From The Guardian]

I love the reverence Richard shows for language and conversation, and I think morphing his journal writing into a way to keep communicating with his late wife is just beautiful. It also sounds like it’s perfectly suited to how they were as a couple, given the way he talked about “the intimacy of conversation,” (which, by the way, should definitely be the book title if he ever publishes the nightly letters he writes). Man, what a life he’s had. And there’s plenty more in the full article! Funnily enough, the topic that gets the briefest coverage is the show he’s there to plug: The Franchise. It’s written by Armando Iannucci (VEEP!) and directed by Sam Mendes, and follows a ragtag film crew as they struggle to film an umpteenth installment of a comic book franchise. Richard plays one of the actors. I am SO excited to see this! The episodes air Sunday nights on HBO Max in the US (three have already come out, but I’m trying to hold out until all eight are available). So now Richard has starred in an earnest comic book series (Loki), and also a satire of the genre. He’s a cool cat.

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6 Responses to “Richard E. Grant writes to his late wife every night: ‘I can hear her response’”

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  1. yipyip says:

    Big fan.
    He is so well spoken.
    We should all be so lucky to be with a partner that loves and values us, as he clearly did his late wife.

    Class guy.

  2. Lightpurple says:

    Sad, sweet, and lovely.

  3. Nanea says:

    REG filmed a movie in my hometown, The Lesson, shortly after his wife died, and back then he shared on Twitter how he’d tell her of his day, or what he found out about the history etc of this place when he had days off, or that he picked orchestras guesting here based on programs his wife would have liked.

    I’ve hardly ever read so many kind replies to Twitter threads as I did on REG’s posts. It was a joy to share his sadness (his words, not mine)

  4. Kirsten says:

    He seems like an all around lovely human and he’s a fantastic actor.

  5. bisynaptic says:

    “When you share absolutely everything with another human being, who sees you completely for who you are, to me that is unquantifiable. What a thing to have.”
    —What a thing, indeed. ❤️