Books cannot directly solve the problem of death, but I have come to realize that they can offer an insight into grief and loss that is incredibly powerful. Years after losing important people in my own life, I am grateful for novels that reassure me that grief is never simple. It is messy and hollow all at once, the process of trying to fill such enormous holes.

After Annie by Anna Quindlen is not a very long book, but it is full of truth. It follows the Brown family after the sudden death of Annie, a wife and mother who dies from an aneurysm. When she goes, so does life as the family knew it, because the whole household has relied upon her. The children find that they have no choice but to grow up, especially Ali, the oldest, who must step up and learn to do the things her mother once did because no one else is going to do them for her.

Annie’s husband is lost in a different way. Months after his wife is buried, he has an affair with an old girlfriend, perhaps seeking comfort in some form of familiarity. But he soon realizes that the relationship is not healing him or helping him grow. Instead, it is pushing his two older children further away.

One of the most interesting things about the novel is that, immediately after Annie’s death, no one in her family seems able to remember her imperfectly. Her husband occasionally feels frustration toward her, but he pushes those feelings away because they are accompanied by guilt. He seeks comfort in distraction instead. Her best friend, Annemarie, was also in love with her, but this ultimately creates more resentment toward Annie’s husband than toward Annie herself.

The suddenness of Annie’s death creates a fear of dishonoring her, as though she might somehow return if everyone remains silent, or as though an unkind thought could somehow cause her to die all over again.

This fear is not uncommon, especially immediately after a death. Words and even thoughts are handled carefully. It can be easier to find distraction in lovers, alcohol, or anything else that keeps us from thinking honestly about what we feel. Do we subconsciously imagine that the person we have lost, now existing only in spirit, can somehow see all of our private thoughts and feelings?

I have known grief to change not only how a family looks, but also how it feels. It does not simply take the form of tears; that would almost be too easy. It also looks like insomnia, anger, irritability, silence, and an unbearable emptiness. These emotions are much more difficult to excuse than a fit of crying. If only tears were the ultimate and final expression of loss. But the emotions of a human heart are, by nature, difficult to contain and understand.

Novels allow us to explore these differing twists and turns. They do not answer all of our questions, but they can provide a starting point on the journey toward peace. A novel is a complete form of art, an elaborate map of the landscape of human emotion, capable of charting both its rises and its descents. Anna Quindlen has given us a beautifully written story of a family struggling to find its footing again.

Because life must go on. We have not died with our loved one. Our time on this planet has not yet ended. We still have decisions to make and stories to tell.

The hardest part is getting up and beginning to live again, but it is also the most important part. Our deceased loved ones do not want us to stop living. Their time here is finished; ours is not. There are still people who love us, people who need us, and people who share in the same story we are living.

Grief demands to be felt and experienced, but it is not meant to steal our entire lives from us. Eventually, we have to get back up and make the most of the time we have left. We cannot bring back those who have passed on, but we can choose to keep living.

Perhaps that is one of the truest ways we can honor their memories.