100 books like It's Okay to Laugh

This book is the first one I read after losing my husband. I was 31-years old, with a toddler and a newborn, and I had no idea how I was going to survive the rest of my life, better yet make it a life worth living. In The Sun Still Rises: Surviving and Thriving After Grief and Loss, author Shawn Doyle shares his story of loss, but more than that he shares hope with his reader. Hope that there is still light in the darkness of grief. At that point in my loss, hope was what I needed most. However, he didn't stop there, he also provided practical tips and suggestions about dealing with both the logistical matters that come with loss, as well as providing emotional support. This book helped me live my best life, in spite of my loss.

Hickman’s book kept me going immediately following my unforeseen staggering loss. It is a treasure: a little book of readings, one page for each day of the year containing a quote from literature, the Bible, or wisdom traditions, followed by a brief meditation and ending with an affirmation. Each entry seemed to speak directly to me, to where I was in that moment, reassuring me, coaxing me to keep on keeping on, helping me to believe that in time, I would feel more able to cope with my new reality.

It was designed as a daybook, so it would never end until I decided I didn’t need it anymore. Just turn to the appropriate day of the year and start again...

Reading this book was like a lightbulb going off!

There are many stages of grief that people observe (denial, anger, shock, etc.). But anxiety is a key component of grief as well. I’ve experienced anxiety in my life but had no idea it was connected to my grief.

Seeing and understanding this connection through Claire’s book is like attending counseling and is so important for anyone going through the grieving process.

Sheryl Sandberg movingly tells the story of losing her husband suddenly and having to continue with her family on her own. Grief seems a solitary process that we have to work through by ourselves. But she describes how her process of recovery required connections with friends, with family, and with institutions in her neighborhood. All of us have to deal with personal tragedies like the deaths of loved ones, and I appreciated how this book combined her sharing her personal experience with broader expertise from psychology and social science.

This stunning memoir is the author’s recollection of the time between her husband’s diagnosis of a brain tumour that robbed him of language, and his death aged fifty-three. Time runs out for them very quickly. Sometimes the experience of tending to him is stupendously painful and hard (she is a mother of a small child as well as a wife to a dying man). Sometimes it is oddly peaceful. Every so often there are moments of euphoria. Always there is thought, imagination, empathy, care, and love. Above all, love.

I found this a distressing but compelling read that made me reflect on my own life and mortality. Being a retired doctor myself, I know that healthcare professionals often delay seeking help for their own medical problems and can feel disconcerted and even humiliated when cast into the role of patient.

In this brutally honest account of his transition from famous surgeon to “just another old man with prostate cancer,” Henry Marsh combines a factual account of his illness and treatment with heartfelt ruminations about the prospect of dying. The text is interwoven with recollections of his career as a neurosurgeon in the UK and Ukraine, more fully described in his previous books “Do No Harm” and “Admissions.” 

What drew me into this series was the first book, The Dragon of New Orleans, where a desperate dragon who has been hexed saves a woman who is terminally ill by giving her his tooth. She turns out to be a powerful witch who is unaware of her powers until they are awakened by the dragon’s magic. I loved the self-discovery that takes place and how as her powers grow she used them to protect her lover. The rest of the series brings in other dragon siblings as well as human and vampire characters in adventures that span several states and another dimension. I have a few more to read. 

This tearjerker book made me want to get back to the classroom to make students feel as strongly about me as they had about David.

The author visits former students to find out how he impacted their lives. He has cancer and marital issues, but it doesn’t stop him for being positive and grateful about his encounters with students he taught in high school.

On his travels throughout the country, he slept on their couches, broke bread with them, and conversed with them for hours. He came to the conclusion that his life had been richer through knowing and guiding them into people he was proud of.

Through this book, I discovered the generosity of spirit that exists among educators as they create communities in classrooms that encourage growth and learning.

Jill Bolte Taylor’s book has been an inspiring guide in understanding the brain’s incredible capacity for recovery and transformation. As a brain scientist who experienced a severe stroke, Taylor’s firsthand account of her journey through brain injury and recovery is both riveting and educational.

This book is personally significant because it highlights the resilience of the human spirit alongside the brain and body’s ability to heal–highlighting the power and opportunity of neuroplasticity. Taylor’s vivid descriptions and insights into neuroplasticity align with my dedication to advancing trauma-informed, neuroscience-based care. Her narrative, blending scientific understanding with personal experience, provides a model for how I approach my own writing, making complex neurological concepts accessible and relatable.

Taylor’s story is a testament to the possibilities of recovery and the profound connection between mind, body, and spirit, reinforcing the themes of hope and resilience in my own journey.

Henry Molaison is surely the most famous patient in the history of neurology, widely known in the scientific literature and to psychology and medical students throughout the world as H.M. In 1953, he underwent brain surgery for the relief of epilepsy, which left him mentally stuck in the present, unable to remember past events or imagine future ones. Although the case is a tragic one, it led to significant advances in the scientific understanding of how the brain works. But the book is more than that; it is as fascinating for the backstory as for the case of Henry himself. Luke Dittrich is the grandson of H.M.’s surgeon, a maverick figure in the history of psychosurgery. It is an often uncomfortable but always fascinating tale of intrigue, ambition, secrecy, and surgical recklessness.