A mother reflects on the 5-year aftermath of her son’s traumatic brain injury in this intimate, unflinching portrait of familial love and the profound dilemma posed by modern medicine. “Like The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion . . . a spare, sharp memoir about the speed with which a comfortable existence can be blighted by grief.” —The Sunday Times When Lu Spinney’s 29-year-old son, Miles, flies up on his snowboard, he lands hard on the ice and falls into a coma. Thus begins the erratic loss that unravels over the next 5 years. Spinney, her husband, and 3 other children put their lives on hold to tend to Miles at various hospitals and finally in a care home. They hold out hope that he will be returned to them. A deeply personal memoir, Beyond the High Blue Air also offers universal meaning, presenting an eloquent and piercing description of ambiguous loss: grieving the disappearance of someone who is still there. Three quarters of the way through, however, Spinney’s story takes a turn. The family and, to the degree that he can communicate, Miles himself come to view ending his life as the only possible release from the prison of his body and mind. Spinney, cutting her last thread of hope, wishes for her son to die. And yet, even as she allows this difficult revelation to settle, she learns that this is not her decision to make. Because Miles is diagnosed as being in a “minimally conscious state” rather than a “persistent vegetative state,” there is no legal way to bring about his death, a bewildering paradox that Spinney navigates with compassion and wisdom.   This profound book encompasses the lyrical revelations of a memoir like Jean–Dominique Bauby’s The Diving Bell and the Butterfly as well as the crucial medical and moral insights of a book such as Atul Gawande’s Being Mortal.

“This book is ridiculously hilarious, and makes my father look like a normal member of society.” —Chelsea Handler “Read this unless you’re allergic to laughing.” —Kristen Bell “If you’re wondering if there is a real man behind the quotes on Twitter, the answer is a definite and laugh-out-loud yes.” —Christian Lander, New York Times bestselling author of Stuff White People Like Tuesdays with Morrie meets F My Life in this hilarious book about a son’s relationship with his foul-mouthed father by the 29-year-old comedy writer who created the massively popular Twitter feed of the same name.

An inspiring memoir of life, love, loss, and new beginnings by the widower of bestselling children’s author and filmmaker Amy Krouse Rosenthal, whose last of act of love before her death was setting the stage for her husband’s life without her in the viral New York Times Modern Love column, “You May Want to Marry My Husband.”On March 3, 2017, Amy Krouse Rosenthal penned an op-ed piece for the New York Times’ “Modern Love” column —”You May Want to Marry My Husband.” It appeared ten days before her death from ovarian cancer. A heartbreaking, wry, brutally honest, and creative play on a personal ad—in which a dying wife encouraged her husband to go on and find happiness after her demise—the column quickly went viral, reaching more than five million people worldwide. In My Wife Said You May Want to Marry Me, Jason describes what came next: his commitment to respecting Amy’s wish, even as he struggled with her loss. Surveying his life before, with, and after Amy, Jason ruminates on love, the pain of watching a loved one suffer, and what it means to heal—how he and their three children, despite their profound sorrow, went on. Jason’s emotional journey offers insights on dying and death and the excruciating pain of losing a soulmate, and illuminates the lessons he learned. As he reflects on Amy’s gift to him—a fresh start to fill his empty space with a new story—Jason describes how he continues to honor Amy’s life and her last wish, and how he seeks to appreciate every day and live in the moment while trying to help others coping with loss. My Wife Said You May Want to Marry Me is the poignant, unreserved, and inspiring story of a great love, the aftermath of a marriage ended too soon, and how a surviving partner eventually found a new perspective on life’s joys in the wake of tremendous loss.

In this “irresistible memoir that’s equal parts pathos and belly laughs,” the Irish American writer and actor shares stories from his first decade in the US (People). Malachy McCourt left behind a childhood of poverty and painful memories of his father and mother in Limerick, Ireland, when he followed his brother, Frank, to America in 1952. In A Monk Swimming, McCourt recounts the decade that followed. With not much to his name other than his sharp wit and knack for storytelling, McCourt was unsure what he would do after arriving in New York City. He worked as a longshoreman on the Brooklyn docks, became the first celebrity bartender in a Manhattan saloon, performed on stage with the Irish Players, and told tales to Jack Paar on The Tonight Show. Although McCourt gained success, money, women, and, eventually, children of his own, he still carried memories of the past with him. So, he fled again. He found himself in the Manhattan Detention Complex, otherwise known as the Tombs. He was arrested several times: poolside in Beverly Hills, in Zurich with gold-smugglers, and again in Calcutta with sex workers. McCourt’s journey also took him to Paris, Rome, and even Limerick again, until finally he was forced to grapple with his past. “[A] funny, oddly winning book.” —The New York Times “A rollicking good read that, as the Irish say, would make a dead man laugh.” —The Philadelphia Inquirer “A triumphant tale. . . . You will find yourself laughing through the tears.” —Newsday “Howlingly funny.” —Atlanta Journal-Constitution “Build[s] on the story of the McCourts’ early life so dazzlingly told in Angela’s Ashes by his brother Frank.” —Thomas Keneally, author of the international bestseller Schindler’s List