Books like Welcome to the Grief Club — picked by fans

Few books have reminded me more powerfully that our circumstances and our inner life are not the same thing.

I first read Man's Search for Meaning years ago, and its impact has only deepened over time. Frankl's willingness to look directly at suffering without becoming defined by it challenged many of the assumptions I carried about happiness, success, and what it takes to live a meaningful life.

I return to this book because it continually reminds me that meaning is not something life hands us once everything finally goes our way. It is something we discover in how we meet what life places before us.

During difficult seasons of my own life, Frankl's perspective helped me remember that even when we cannot control our circumstances, we still have a relationship with how we respond to them. Few books have given me more courage, perspective, and hope.

Devine does a wonderful job of validating our feelings and our needs as we grieve.

It is filled with many wonderful pieces of wisdom about grief. The most helpful insight she offered me was the distinction she drew between the healthy pain of grief versus the unnecessary and unhelpful suffering that so often accompanies grief.

She provides practical advice on how to be kind to ourselves as we grieve. We can’t “fix” our grief and loss, but we can be kind to ourselves on this difficult journey.

I am recommending this work of fiction selected by The Compassionate Friends Sibling Grief Book Club. Ann, with grace, handles not only the sibling loss of a brother, a boy the sole survivor of a plane crash, but the depth and breadth of grief from the aunt and uncle Edward lives with. Edward’s aunt grieving the loss of an unborn child and her sister, says to Edward, “You’re not okay. We are not okay. This is not okay.” I’m certain other bereaved siblings can relate, “he mourns what his brother has lost.” I related to how in a family we handle grief differently and often are unable to communicate how we are feeling. 

This book expertly explains the need to actively grieve, as opposed to avoiding the pain of grieving.

Dr. Cacciatore shares stories from grievers she has helped and she beautifully explains the complicated emotions we all go through as we grieve. I mailed copies of this book to my entire family right after my children were killed. It opened up the conversation of grief and made it clear that we were going to talk about Ruby and Hart and our grief openly.

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.

2021 was a pivotal year for me. I turned sixty-five, my ice skating fundraiser Celebration of Sisters to honor my beloved sisters marked its tenth year, and my memoir was published. Skating is a sport my sisters and I shared and brought me full circle back to my sisters. Joanne and I met at an Adult Skating Camp in 2011. The Skating Forward series, tells stories of skaters of all levels from novice to Olympic Champions, all disciplines, all ages solidifying the meaning of figure skating in their lives. I am honored to be a participant in this milestone book due to the impact skating had on my life. On the ice I feel joy, peace, and each of my sisters on my shoulder as the breeze flows through my hair.

The loss of a sibling(s) changes us and rocks our world. I read Susan’s book and heard words of love, hope, and resilienciency, a message I needed to hear and wanted to emulate. The parallel themes to my life and the stories shared by other siblings, Susan weaves in amongst the heartfelt love of Rocky warmed my heart. To quote Susan, “Where there is joy, there is grief. One is more predominant than the other at any given time, depending on which one we shine our light on.” I felt this at the birth of my grandson. On the one hand, a hole in my heart missing my beloved sisters, and looking at this beautiful new life, a new beginning.

I found this book of poems on the one-year anniversary of my father’s death. The author wrote this collection following the deaths of her son and her father. She writes with such aching precision of the pain of losing someone you love.

I read many of these poems through tears, but they were cleansing tears—sorrow accompanied by a feeling of being seen, of not being alone. It is a gorgeous collection.

I’ve wanted a book like Can Anyone Tell Me?—a practical guide to understanding what’s really happening when we’re thrust into grief—since my son’s death at age 20, more than 26 years ago.

In plain, easy-to-digest language with a smattering of humor, Jarvis tackles questions like Why can’t I remember anything? Why can’t I sleep? Why do I suddenly dislike my friends? She explains the neuroscience behind what we’re experiencing and provides brief case studies, advice for grievers, and—what I’ve found missing in so many books—advice for those who want to support them.

I recommend this book to those new to grief, those whose loss is long past, and anyone who loves someone who’s grieving—which, in the end, is nearly all of us.

Because my art is impermanent, I write and think about that subject a lot. And IMHO, no one speaks as beautifully and powerfully to the subjects of impermanence, life, loss, and beauty better than Prechtel. Prechtel's book is a well of indigenous wisdom on the living relationship between grief and praise. He says, "When you’re grieving for the thing you got, it's called praise. When you're praising for the thing you lost, it's called grief.” If the Earth is speaking her wisdom, this author is delivering it faithfully and beautifully to us.