When adults face a significant loss, they must grapple with their own profound grief, and they are often called upon to nurture and support their grieving children. This is the first book to address this very common dual grieving challenge. As a practicing psychotherapist for twenty-nine years, Robert Zucker can offer parents and other concerned readers important insights into managing their own grief while supporting their grieving children. He offers: • Understanding how adults and children grieve differently • Learning how to explain the meaning of death to children • Knowing what to do when grief gets complicated • Deciding when they and/or their child need counseling • Helping their family members stay connected with loved ones even after death. For the countless parents who have tried blocking out their own grief in order to be available to their child, Robert Zucker provides a measure of comfort. This book will reassure readers that a grieving parent can still be an effective parent.

Children and teenagers with autism can struggle to cope with the loss of a loved one, and the complicated and painful emotions of bereavement. This book explains death in concrete terms, explores feelings that the child may encounter as a part of bereavement, and offers creative and expressive activities that facilitate healing.

When we lose someone we love, we are forever changed. When our person dies, our grief needs room. People long to reduce the enormity of our grief. "Time heals all wounds," they tell us, or "At least she isn't in pain anymore." Yet no matter how hard others try to stuff our grief into a process or a plan, grief cannot be willed away. Leanne Friesen thought she knew a lot about bereavement. She had studied it in school and preached at memorial services. But only when her own sister died from cancer did she learn, in her very bones, what grieving people don't need--and what they do. In Grieving Room, Friesen writes with vulnerability, wisdom, and somehow even wit about the stark and sacred lessons learned at deathbeds and funerals. When someone dies, we need room for imperfect goodbyes, she writes, and room for a changing faith. We need room for regret and room to rage at the world. Room for hard holidays and room in our schedules. We need room for redemption and room for resurrection--and we also need room to never "get over it." In this poignant account of a sister's mourning and a pastor's journey, Friesen pushes back against a world that wants to minimize our sorrow and avoid our despair. She helps those of us walking with the grieving figure out what to say and what not to say, and she offers practical ways to create ample space for every emotion and experience. Reflection questions, practices, and prayers at the end of the book offer guidance and ideas for individuals and groups. In a world that wants to rush toward closure and healing, Grieving Room gives us permission to let loss linger. When the very worst happens, we can learn to give ourselves and others grieving room.

Offering a series of poems rooted in the profoundly narrative yet disorienting experience of losing a loved one, Prageeta Sharma, in Grief Sequence, summons all of her resources in order to attempt any semblance, poetic or otherwise, of clear sense in trauma. In doing so she shows that grief, frustrating to logic and yet as real as any experience we might know, is ripe for the sort of intellectual and emotional processing of which poetry is most capable.

The work of the mature person is to carry grief in one hand and gratitude in the other and be stretched large by them. As seen on All There Is with Anderson Cooper Noted psychotherapist Francis Weller provides an essential guide for navigating the deep waters of sorrow and loss in this lyrical yet practical handbook for mastering the art of grieving. Describing how Western patterns of amnesia and anesthesia affect our capacity to cope with personal and collective sorrows, Weller reveals the new vitality we may encounter when we welcome, rather than fear, the pain of loss. Through moving personal stories, poetry, and insightful reflections he leads us into the central energy of sorrow, and to the profound healing and heightened communion with each other and our planet that reside alongside it. The Wild Edge of Sorrow explains that grief has always been communal and illustrates how we need the healing touch of others, an atmosphere of compassion, and the comfort of ritual in order to fully metabolize our grief. Weller describes how we often hide our pain from the world, wrapping it in a secret mantle of shame. This causes sorrow to linger unexpressed in our bodies, weighing us down and pulling us into the territory of depression and death. We have come to fear grief and feel too alone to face an encounter with the powerful energies of sorrow. Those who work with people in grief, who have experienced the loss of a loved one, who mourn the ongoing destruction of our planet, or who suffer the accumulated traumas of a lifetime will appreciate the discussion of obstacles to successful grief work such as privatized pain, lack of communal rituals, a pervasive feeling of fear, and a culturally restrictive range of emotion. Weller highlights the intimate bond between grief and gratitude, sorrow and intimacy. In addition to showing us that the greatest gifts are often hidden in the things we avoid, he offers powerful tools and rituals and a list of resources to help us transform grief into a force that allows us to live and love more fully.

David Kessler, one of the most renowned experts on death and grief, takes on three uniquely shared experiences that challenge our ability to explain and fully understand the mystery of our final days. The first is "visions." As the dying lose sight of this world, some people appear to be looking into the world to come. The second shared experience is getting ready for a "trip." The phenomenon of preparing oneself for a journey isn’t new or unusual. In fact, during our loved ones’ last hours, they may often think of their impending death as a transition or journey. These trips may seem to us to be all about leaving, but for the dying, they may be more about arriving. Finally, the third phenomenon is "crowded rooms." The dying often talk about seeing a room full of people, as they constantly repeat the word crowded. In truth, we never die alone. Just as loving hands greeted us when we were born, so will loving arms embrace us when we die. In the tapestry of life and death, we may begin to see connections to the past that we missed in life. While death may look like a loss to the living, the last hours of a dying person may be filled with fullness rather than emptiness. In this fascinating book, which includes a new Afterword, Kessler brings us stunning stories from the bedsides of the dying that will educate, enlighten, and comfort us all.