My favorite books on grief and joy: you can’t have one without the other

Gay’s collection of essays is so lovingly and delicately penned.

His writing is approachable, but poetic. Matter of fact but brimming with despair and hope in equal measure. Grief can be so all consuming, but Gay’s main thesis is that Joy is an act of resistance to a callous world and art creates meaning. A valuable lesson that I keep in my pocket and worry like stone when I start to forget.  

Chung’s anger at the American healthcare system is all too relatable and the source of grief for so many people.

She writes about her parent’s illness and the frustration of trying to get them care, and then ultimately losing them with such an honest and deft hand. Constantly asking what could have gone different, the guilt of being far away, the anxiety and panic and rage are such an intrinsic part of the grieving process and Chung does not shy away.

I hold on to her rage and the eventual growth that comes of it like a map that will guide me through any hard loss. 

The books we read as children are so incredibly formative. In Walk Two Moons, 13-year-old Sal has lost her mother and lost her way.

As the reader, especially when I read it as an adult, I can see so clearly Sal’s pain and grief motivating her every decision. As a child who was often in the care of her grandparents, I could see myself in Sal. Her journey became mine, her path to healing made my journey easier as well.

There’s a reason Walk Two Moons won the Newbery in 1995 and Sharon Creech remains one of the best writers for middle grade fiction around. 

When you’re going through the ups and downs of grief, someone telling you that your experience is making you grow as a person is likely the last thing you want to hear, but Susan Cain makes a solid case for joy and sadness being intertwined.

People often feel drawn to sadness because permanent joy doesn’t work. Cain tells us that we need not strive for joy or sadness because they will always be there, essentially holding hands. What we need to look for is acceptance. As a fan of her bestselling book Quiet, I was excited to see her take on grief and it turned out to be poignant and wise. 

Besides well written non-fiction and sapphic romance, my favorite type of book is always going to be middle grade fiction.

In AfterMath, 12-year-old Lucy is struggling with the death of her younger brother from heart failure. When she changes school, she comes into the aftermath of a school shooting where her classmates struggle with grief of a different kind. Chock full of character development and with a solid plot, this takes a gentle look at grief, trauma, gun violence, terminal illness, and the real-life things that we have to face, no matter our age.

I love a story where children are resilient, though I wish they didn’t have to be so resilient all the time.