Chap­ter Twen­ty begins with Hazel reflect­ing on the poignant con­cept of the “Last Good Day,” a recur­ring theme in can­cer nar­ra­tives inter­twined with the ever-present shad­ow of mor­tal­i­ty. This term refers to the final, seem­ing­ly ordi­nary day before ill­ness begins its unre­lent­ing decline, a day that feels incon­se­quen­tial until viewed in hind­sight. Hazel revis­its a spe­cif­ic moment in her life that, while mun­dane at the time, now stands out as a piv­otal turn­ing point in her deep­en­ing rela­tion­ship with Augus­tus Waters. Despite the emo­tion­al toll of wit­ness­ing Augustus’s health decline, Hazel briefly steps away from vis­it­ing him, only to be drawn back when Augus­tus reach­es out with an unusu­al and heart­felt request.

Augus­tus invites Hazel to meet him at the Lit­er­al Heart of Jesus church, a place imbued with per­son­al sig­nif­i­cance for both of them. His dete­ri­o­rat­ing health is painful­ly evi­dent, and his request car­ries an emo­tion­al weight that Hazel strug­gles to bear—he asks her to pre­pare a eulo­gy for him. The grav­i­ty of his con­di­tion hits Hazel hard as she con­tem­plates the pur­pose of this pre-funer­al gath­er­ing, real­iz­ing it may be one of their last shared moments togeth­er.

Before leav­ing for the church, Hazel shares a charged inter­ac­tion with her par­ents, a scene filled with ten­sion and unspo­ken emo­tion. Her par­ents, who have stood by her side through her own health strug­gles, find them­selves at a loss in how to nav­i­gate Hazel’s bond with Augus­tus and the inevitabil­i­ty of his pass­ing. Although phys­i­cal­ly weak­ened her­self, Hazel choos­es to pri­or­i­tize Augustus’s request, demon­strat­ing the depth of their con­nec­tion and her com­mit­ment to being present for him, no mat­ter the cost to her own well-being.

This moment under­scores the com­plex­i­ty of fam­i­ly dynam­ics in the shad­ow of ter­mi­nal ill­ness. Hazel’s deci­sion to pri­or­i­tize Augus­tus reflects the pro­found love and under­stand­ing they share, but it also high­lights the emo­tion­al strain on her par­ents as they wres­tle with their fears for their daugh­ter while respect­ing her auton­o­my. The scene adds lay­ers of emo­tion­al ten­sion, empha­siz­ing the far-reach­ing impact of ill­ness on rela­tion­ships and indi­vid­ual pri­or­i­ties.

When Hazel arrives at the church, she finds her­self in a deeply inti­mate and somber set­ting, orches­trat­ed by Augus­tus despite his wors­en­ing con­di­tion. In a bid to con­front mor­tal­i­ty on his own terms, Augus­tus has arranged a pre-funer­al, giv­ing his loved ones the oppor­tu­ni­ty to share their eulo­gies with him while he is still alive to hear them. This bit­ter­sweet event becomes a space for raw reflec­tion, laugh­ter, and heartache as those clos­est to Augus­tus attempt to hon­or his life and lega­cy.

Isaac, their mutu­al friend and fel­low can­cer fight­er, deliv­ers a eulo­gy infused with humor and hon­esty. His speech cap­tures Augustus’s quirks, flaws, and the pro­found impact he had on his friends, offer­ing a can­did yet heart­felt trib­ute. Through his words, Isaac reminds every­one present that Augustus’s life was filled with pur­pose and con­nec­tion, even in the face of immense chal­lenges.

When it is Hazel’s turn to speak, she finds her­self over­whelmed by the weight of her emo­tions. Her eulo­gy is short­er than she intend­ed, a reflec­tion of the dif­fi­cul­ty in putting such pro­found feel­ings into words. She speaks of the deep love they shared, their unique bond forged through shared strug­gles, and the ways Augus­tus changed her life. In her trib­ute, Hazel con­veys not only her admi­ra­tion for Augus­tus but also the pain of know­ing that their time togeth­er is slip­ping away.

This moment encap­su­lates the emo­tion­al com­plex­i­ty of love and loss, high­light­ing Hazel’s strength in hon­or­ing Augus­tus while grap­pling with her own grief. Her words, though suc­cinct, res­onate deeply, cap­tur­ing the essence of their con­nec­tion and the endur­ing lega­cy Augus­tus leaves behind.

The chap­ter clos­es with Hazel reflect­ing on the pro­found love she feels for Augus­tus and the loom­ing real­i­ty of their sep­a­ra­tion. Through this pre-funer­al cer­e­mo­ny, the nar­ra­tive delves into themes of mor­tal­i­ty, the desire to leave behind a mean­ing­ful lega­cy, and the human need to be remem­bered. Augustus’s effort to con­trol how he is cel­e­brat­ed, even in death, reflects a uni­ver­sal yearn­ing to shape one’s nar­ra­tive and be seen for the impact they’ve had on oth­ers.

This chap­ter also explores the rip­pling effects of ter­mi­nal ill­ness on rela­tion­ships and the del­i­cate bal­ance between love and grief. Hazel’s inter­ac­tions with her par­ents, Isaac, and Augus­tus illus­trate how ill­ness reshapes bonds, forc­ing indi­vid­u­als to con­front their fears, pri­or­i­tize their con­nec­tions, and find ways to pre­serve the mem­o­ry of those they hold dear.

Chap­ter Twen­ty is a deeply emo­tion­al med­i­ta­tion on the inter­play of love, mor­tal­i­ty, and lega­cy. Through Augustus’s pre-funer­al gath­er­ing, the chap­ter cap­tures the raw vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty of fac­ing death while cel­e­brat­ing the beau­ty of con­nec­tion and shared moments. Hazel’s reflec­tions and actions reveal the resilience required to nav­i­gate pro­found loss while hold­ing onto the love and mem­o­ries that endure.

This chap­ter reminds read­ers of the pow­er of love to tran­scend even the inevitabil­i­ty of death, offer­ing a poignant explo­ration of what it means to hon­or someone’s life while prepar­ing to say good­bye. In the end, the human capac­i­ty for con­nec­tion and mem­o­ry becomes the ulti­mate trib­ute, ensur­ing that those we love remain a part of us long after they are gone.