When I first opened Grieving the Loss of Our Democracies, I expected an abstract analysis of politics. What I found instead was a heartfelt and emotionally resonant exploration of how collective grief can shape us in a time when democratic institutions feel fragile and under siege. The book walks through the stages of grief, yet it isn’t a clinical breakdown. It’s a mix of history, personal stories, moral reflection, and urgent calls to action. Egan roots her work in both lived experience and cultural memory, showing how individuals and communities process loss when democracy itself feels like it’s crumbling.

The writing doesn’t tiptoe around hard truths, and that honesty hit me square in the chest. I found myself nodding along, sometimes frowning, and often pausing to sit with uncomfortable feelings. Egan has a way of mixing big, sweeping political observations with small, intimate details that make the whole thing more real. She doesn’t just talk about authoritarian regimes; she remembers her grandmother’s stories, her childhood in different cultural contexts, her ministry, and her travels. These personal notes pulled me in because they reminded me of the human cost behind every statistic and headline. The grief here isn’t abstract. It’s personal, raw, and messy, like grief always is.

I liked how she weaves anger into the conversation. I’ve often felt guilty about how furious I get reading the news, yet Egan reframes anger as a healthy response when channeled well. That gave me a kind of relief. She doesn’t whitewash the violence, fear, or chaos that’s out there, but she also refuses to leave the reader in despair. I appreciated how she reminded us that our small acts, telling stories, standing by the marginalized, refusing to give in to numbness, matter. The style is conversational, sometimes blunt, sometimes lyrical, always clear.

The book doesn’t offer a neat resolution, and I think that’s the point. Grief is messy, democracy is messy, life is messy. Still, I came away with a sense of hope. I would recommend this book to anyone who feels overwhelmed by the current political climate, especially those who need a reminder that grief is not weakness, it’s part of resilience. Activists, community leaders, people of faith, or simply anyone who feels shaken by the state of the world will find something nourishing here. It’s not a comforting read in the traditional sense, but it is a healing one.

Pages: 135 | ASIN: B0FMYS8N14