This reminds me of a book I read a while ago (Promise the Moon by Elizabeth Arnold), which is about a woman and her children dealing with the suicide of her soldier husband. And for most of the book, it's this incredibly gritty, conflicted thing--it alternates between the perspectives of the mom and the older child and actually manages to capture the voice of a child realistically, and you could see how both of them were hurting each other over and over by trying to shield each other from pain.

And then at the end the woman "solves" the mystery of her husband's suicide, and that's the end of the cycle of grief. It's like A+B+C=husband kills himself, well, that's totally reasonable then, guess I can't blame him for it. And this is just ??? The one suicide I knew, I had to finally accept that there was no reasonable explanation because suicide isn't reasonable. That even if I found out every little detail about what was going on with him, as I wanted to do, that still would not explain it. So to come to the end of this emotional journey and find that...

I guess this is a problem with authors who want to deal with really messy complicated issues? Because those things don't ever actually resolve in reality, but the book has to stop at some point?