The most recommended books on grief

Ross Jeffery is an author who is garnering quite a name for himself in the sub-genre of grief horror.

After the heartrending The Devil’s Pocketbook, I wondered if he would be able to go one better in this new release. After reading, it’s easy to say he has.

The protagonist, Henry, and his friend—who he in fact got to know in their grief counselling group—are mourning different losses, using at times difficult, nihilistic humour to get themselves through one more day at a time. When a new member arrives offering a way for Henry to find out if his missing daughter is really dead, things go into a tailspin which doesn’t let up until the absolutely shocking end.

By turns horrific, hilarious, and deeply affecting, this was a fantastic read.

This is a children’s book for primarily ages 4-8. It describes what it’s like for a child to be experiencing grief through a biblical lens.

I can’t recommend this book enough because as someone who experienced loss as a child, I needed this book then. It has beautiful words and imagery to guide the child and hold their emotions. It would be a fantastic book to read through in a counseling session with a child experiencing loss. 

Lisa’s husband dies as he is being treated for cancer. She writes about the first year after in which grief, madness, confusion, isolation, and fury coincide with Britain’s beginning Brexit madness. Nothing can be made sense of and yet we need words to express what’s happening. And then words provide for consoling and managing.

A witch mourning her lover is saved by a curious cowboy in this by turns haunting and funny trans romance novella. Caroline’s Heart reminded me of Howl’s Moving Castle, with its magical house that serves as a portal to different geographies. But this book also explores the raw, dark-edged of grief of witch Cecily and her drive to revive her dead partner through her magic; One of Caroline’s Heart’s most powerful moments serves as an eerie reminder that sometimes holding onto grief corrupts our good memories of the people we love.

The book is a great collection of healing methods, with practical application ideas. Each of the healing techniques described has been used by the author and others who share how it worked for them. I encourage anyone needing help to find a way through their grief journey to use this book.

This is book two of this series and I loved it every bit as much as the author’s debut.

Who doesn’t love an Arthurian story of power, love, magic, and female empowerment? This is a high-stakes fantasy that draws you quickly into Bree’s story of destiny and magic. I had to force myself to read this book slowly so I could wallow in the beautiful writing on every page.

Arthurian history, Black American history, generational trauma, and maternal natural magic are deftly woven into the plot without bogging the story down or bloating descriptions. The fast-paced plot and action sequences keep the story flowing well. You get to the end wanting so much more. And the fight sequences are fabulous.

Who doesn’t love a good magical sword fight or two involving aether-created monsters, sorcerers weaving spells like blades, fiery love-fueled anger, spirit possession, and magical armor? I immediately wanted to… show more.

I did not buy this book because I thought it was a grief book. I got it to do a tree unit for my kids’ preschool. But a year after my father-in-law (also named Steve) died unexpectedly, I couldn’t finish reading this book aloud without crying.

While not a traditional grief book, this is the story of a tree that has become inextricably intertwined with a family’s daily life, until one day a storm blows it over and the children come home to Steve in a new form, as a treehouse. A great way to discuss how we can find our lost loved ones in new ways.

When I began my grief journey after thirty years, I googled Sibling Loss and came across Brenda’s dissertation. For the first time I did not feel alone in my grief. I reached out to Brenda and she told me about her writing, Adult Sibling Loss. Brenda’s sensitivity in sharing the emotions of the loss of her brother, and three adult women who lost their sibling validated feelings I kept dormant. Layered into the stories is extensive research done by Brenda.

Brenda termed her experience “invisible griever” following the unexpected death of her brother. Siblings are often the forgotten mourners. The bookshelves have few in this category, and I am grateful to be on the road to discovering the few written are heartfelt, enlightening, and aided me in my grief.

Luna’s Red Hat does a fantastic job of explaining suicide to its readers in a way that is blameless and sensitive, delicate but not sugar-coated. It’s a hard topic to talk about, especially with children or people who haven’t ever felt suicidal themselves. You can tell in the way that Luna and her father talk to each other and about Luna’s mother that this was and is a very close and loving family, and that nobody is to blame for Luna’s mother taking her own life. This book has been a big inspiration for me. I hope I am able to write about mental health and other difficult topics with as much grace as Emmi does in this book.

Long familiar to me, John O’Donohue’s books became a particular solace when grief arrived. I would recommend any of his books.

O’Donohue lived on the western coast of Ireland, and he had a distinctive wisdom about threshold spaces—those places between the life we have known and the one we cannot yet see—and a compassionate way of inviting us to receive the grace that comes as we stumble our way across those thresholds.

Eternal Echoes is one of my favorites among O’Donohue’s books. I am especially taken by his chapter about absence, where he acknowledges the deep ache of loss while also emphasizing that our losses are not utterly empty; they hold a hidden eternity that does not abandon us. I am both consoled and challenged by his assurance that grief is a mystery that knows its way.