You Don't Fall Out of the Universe: Surviving the loss of our son

by B. J. Jewett

A hybrid of memoir and poetry, You Don’t Fall Out of the Universe navigates what one family endures before and after the unimaginable loss of a son. With quiet moments of heartache and resilience, Jewett shows the strength in being vulnerable. If you think you know how to console someone who’s grieving, this memoir reveals there’s more to learn, how our simplest phrases can cause more hurt than healing.

This book is so many things: a means of honoring a son, a fierce commitment to family, a meditation on grief, and an exploration of secular spirituality that offers readers an alternative path through bereavement. When enduring such profound loss seems impossible, You Don’t Fall Out of the Universe asks us to consider survival, that the power of nature and mystical elements of the universe could be a part of healing.

138 pages, Hardcover

Published August 22, 2022

Reviews

[Karen Torretta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Although this powerful book was written to help those who have lost a child, it is much more. Reading about this family’s journey through loss and grief provides hope for anyone who has suffered a great loss that they will survive. It gives guidance in how to provide comfort to those who grieve. The author’s words are beautifully crafted and compelling.

[Denise Bickel · Rating 5 out of 5]

The poignancy with which this memoir was written is palpable. B.J.'s ability to tell Jesse's story with clarity and compassion is remarkable. I highly recommend this book for anyone walking the grief journey.

[Sarah Torretta-Trout · Rating 5 out of 5]

An honest and raw look into the world of grief. It was a smooth read, the flow of the story was uniquely appropriate for the topic. It felt like a conversation with an old friend mixed with poetry, while being privvy to the deepest parts of someone’s pain and strength. Hard, hopeful, and helpful.

[Ida]

I don't do star ratings.

This is an eloquently written memoir -- part prose, part poetry -- of inhabiting the land of grief after losing a child. There are no platitudes, just a lot of honesty.