JOANNA TROLLOPE ON LOVE AND LOSS

British writer Joanna Trollope writes family, love and change with warmth, delicacy, and a wise understanding of the complexities of modern lives. Two of Trollope's novels, Next of Kin and A Passionate Man, deal explicitly with themes of loss and grief. A Passionate Man, my favorite of the two, begins when its protagonist Archie Logan learns that his father, who for many years has been a widower, has begun a passionate relationship with a charming older woman. Archie is an adult with a busy, successful life, but his father's sudden transformation from parent and best friend to besotted man in love jolts him back into childlike feelings of loss, jealousy and doubt. As he struggles to accept this new perspective on his father, he begins to question himself, his marriage and career as well—questions that remain far from resolved when his father suddenly passes on. The lives and personalities in the story are rich and messy, just as in real life, and the ending is happy without being in any way glib, simplistic or pat. I suppose that's the thing that I liked best about the book: Trollope's ability to write about the way change is inevitable in human lives, as well as the way we all grieve, heal, and move on.

LITTLE, SIMPLE, WISE

In the period after I lost my parents, I found and bought some excellent books on bereavement and healing.

The problem, as I discovered, was that I couldn't focus enough to read any of them. Some of them sit on my bookshelf today, still unread. By the time I could muster enough attention to read them, I no longer urgently needed the comfort they had to give.

Much later, I came across a little book that seemed designed to accomodate that kind of difficulty. How to Survive the Loss of a Love, written by Melba Cosgrove, Harold Bloomfield, and Peter McWilliams and first published in 1976, calls itself "first aid for emotional hurt (and a little second aid too)."

Co-written by a psychiatrist, a psychologist, and a poet, it describes itself as "kindly" and "companionable," and those words are just right. Rather than lengthy prose, it offers a series of small lists, focused paragraphs, and the occasional brief poem. I can guess what you're thinking: poems? Okay, let's be honest: these are not Shakespeare's sonnets. But even as something of a poetry snob, I think they make a real contribution to the book, creating yet another easy way for readers to recognize how universal their painful feelings are. Another useful feature of How to Survive the Loss of a Love is a series of brief suggestions about tangible things to do as healing progresses. I tend to approach "to do" lists with skepticism even in subjects less challenging than grief, but these were perfectly composed--wise, gentle, and reassuring whether you do them or not.

My copy came from a thrift store, and it looks as worn and well-loved as an old teddy bear. Many of its pages are turned down at the top, mostly those relating to forgiveness and rebound relationships. As I flipped through it for the first time, I wondered what had happened to its previous owner. But I didn't wonder why they read it more than once. I read it more than once too, and I've given copies to friends experiencing difficult times, too.