Book Reflection: “Yet” by Helen Parker-Drabble – A Story That Stays With You

I was invited to read an advance copy of Yet by Helen Parker-Drabble. I thought I was picking up a historical biography, but what I didn’t expect was how deeply this story would reach into my heart and stay there.

Yet tells the life story of Harry, a boy full of promise, whose world changes drastically after he contracts Bovine Tuberculosis at age two from being given unpasteurized milk. What follows is a journey of resilience, separation, identity, and the fight to be seen as whole in a society that couldn’t look past disability.

As a mother and a family historian, I read this book through both a personal and professional lens. I was struck immediately by Harry’s long separation from his parents due to hospital policies that, at the time, were believed to “protect” families, yet caused deep emotional wounds. Reading about a child unable to understand why his parents weren’t there broke my heart. I couldn’t help but imagine how lost and confused he must’ve felt, especially in those early days and months.

That struck a familiar chord for me. While I didn’t face illness like Harry did, I did face fear at a young age when my family moved to Iran during the revolution. I was seven, confused, and scared, not understanding why we were in a place where being American made me feel unsafe. Like Harry, I had to reckon early on with what it means to feel unprotected in a world that suddenly feels unfamiliar.

Throughout the book, Harry’s mother, May, emerges as a quiet but determined force. She advocates, pushes, and most importantly, believes in her son’s potential despite his crippling illness. Her fight for his education showed Harry that he didn’t need to shrink into the limitations society had placed on him as soon as they looked at him. It reminded me of how much of our identity and confidence comes from the people who choose to stand beside us.

One of the most moving aspects of the book was watching Harry build relationships through music. Music gave him a space to be accepted, valued, and understood, something he didn’t always find. His love story with Doreen, too, is one I’ll be thinking about for a long time. It was a reminder that true connection sees past physical ability and into the heart of who we are.

But Yet isn’t just a feel-good story of triumph. It’s also a call to reflect on how we treat others, especially those society has historically sidelined. It challenges us to consider how far we've come and how far we still have to go in the fight for disability rights and emotional dignity in healthcare.

As someone who works in the world of genealogy and social storytelling, I’m always drawn to narratives that reveal the humanity beneath the history. Harry’s story isn’t just about illness or disability; it’s about identity, resilience, and the need we all have to be seen and loved.

I’m so grateful to Helen Parker-Drabble for writing Yet and for including thoughtful questions at the end of the book that allowed me to dig even deeper into Harry’s story and my own memories.

If you’re interested in the intersections of history, health, resilience, and advocacy, I can’t recommend Yet enough. It’s a story that may break your heart a little, but it will also leave you inspired by the strength of the human spirit.

Have you read a book that made you reflect on your own childhood or family history? I’d love to hear about it in the comments, or send me a message. I believe stories like this one are how we build a more empathetic and connected world.