Categories
Books and Resources Child Loss Coping with Loss Coping with suicide Family loss Grief Hope and Healing Parents Who Have Lost a Child to Suicide Stigma and Awareness Support Groups survivors of suicide loss

Where to Find Support, Resources, and Hope-Losing a Child to Suicide

The following resources, book lists, narratives from parents who have lost a child to suicide, support groups, and more are meant to be a resource bank. Many have helped me keep on keeping on these past nine years of grieving.

Where to Find Support and Hope-Losing a Child to Suicide

My Forever Son: A Mother's Journey After Losing Her Son to Suicide

Surviving Your Child’s Suicide

Know you can survive; you may not think so, but you can.

Iris M. Bolton, “Beyond Surviving: Suggestions for Survivors”

It takes as long as it takes. Be gentle with yourself. And in the wake of catastrophic loss, remember to breathe.

Beth Brown, My Forever Son: A Mother’s Journey After Losing Her Son to Suicide

The following resources, book lists, narratives from parents who have lost a child to suicide, support groups, and more are meant to be a resource bank. Many have helped me keep on keeping on these past nine years of grieving.

That’s when my world changed. That’s when hope for me became something I used to have. That’s when I lost my 20-year-old son, Dylan, to suicide.

“Beyond Surviving: Suggestions for Survivors”

by Iris M. Bolton

  • 1. Know you can survive; you may not think so, but you can.
  • 2. Struggle with “why” it happened until you no longer need to know “why” or until YOU are satisfied with partial answers.
  • 3. Know you may feel overwhelmed by the intensity of your feelings but that all your feelings are normal.
  • 4. Anger, guilt, confusion, forgetfulness are common responses. You are not crazy, you are in mourning.
  • 5. Be aware you may feel appropriate anger at the person, at the world, at God, at yourself. It’s okay to express it.
  • 6. You may feel guilty for what you think you did or did not do. Guilt can turn into regret, through forgiveness.
  • 7. Having suicidal thoughts is common. It does not mean that you will act on those thoughts.
  • 8. Remember to take one moment or one day at a time.
  • 9. Find a good listener with whom to share. Call someone if you need to talk.
  • 10. Don’t be afraid to cry. Tears are healing.
  • 11. Give yourself time to heal.
  • 12. Remember, the choice was not yours. No one is the sole influence on another’s life.
  • 13. Expect setbacks. If emotions return like a tidal wave, you may only be experiencing a remnant of grief, an unfinished piece.
  • 14. Try to put off major decisions.
  • 15. Give yourself permission to get professional help.
  • 16. Be aware of the pain in your family and friends.
  • 17. Be patient with yourself and others who may not understand.
  • 18. Set your own limits and learn to say no.
  • 19. Steer clear of people who want to tell you what or how to feel.
  • 20.Know that there are support groups that can be helpful, such as Compassionate Friends or Survivors of Suicide groups.

Iris Bolton, Suicide and its Aftermath (Dunne, McIntosh, Dunne-Maxim, Norton et al., 1987). American Association for Suicidology

After a Suicide

“After a Suicide” is a portal linking people who are grieving after a death by suicide to an online directory of resources and information to help them cope with their loss.  


Perhaps the figure is reeling from a loss so catastrophic that all one can do is scream to sky, to stars, to sun–to wherever forever is, to where forever is out of reach forever again.

Beth Brown, My Forever Son, From Sorrow to Joy: How Pain Colors Loss

The suicide of a child of any age presents unique circumstances that can intensify and prolong the mourning process for parents, family members and friends. Suicide is believed to be a reaction to overwhelming feelings of loneliness, worthlessness, helplessness, hopelessness and depression. Suicide is the third leading cause of death in the United States among 10-14 year olds and 15-24 year olds, and the second leading cause among 25-34 year olds.

2017 The Compassionate Friends, USA

Wear out your questions, anger, guilt, or other feelings until you can let them go. Lettting go doesn’t mean forgetting.

Know that you will never be the same again, but you can survive and even go beyond just surviving.

Iris Bolton, Suicide and its Aftermath, (Dunne, McIntosh, Dunne-Maxim, Norton et al., 1987). American Association for Suicidology

In-person Support Group Directories:


“Thoughts from a Long-Term Survivor of Suicide Loss”

By Desiree Woodland

Jul. 26, 2019 – Thirteen years ago, my son took his life. At the time, I could not imagine living one more day or hour without him, much less these many years. His absence was a heavy weight. I could barely breathe. The overwhelming pain, and the intense longing I felt for him, seemed unendurable.

With the passage of time and the facing of grief, I have adjusted to living my life without my son. Will I always wish it could have been different?  Of course. Ryan’s death was out of order: my child dying before me.

In many ways it feels like a dream that my child was ever here. The passage of time poses its own challenges. Cultivating hope over the long haul has required both tenacity and forgiveness. I have learned – and continue to learn – to forgive reality for what it is. Since losing my son, many changes have taken place in my heart. The loss changed my life’s trajectory. I am not the same person I was before Ryan died. There is a distinct before and after.

How have I changed?

My son accompanies me on this road that is paved with both sorrow and joy. Not his physical presence, but a deeper knowledge that he is still with me. He guides me as I walk, often stumbling, as I move forward to make life better for others as an offering to him.

I have become an advocate for youth mental illness awareness and suicide prevention. As a teacher and as a parent, I was not educated about mental illness and was in denial when it came to my own son. I now know that most people who die by suicide had a mental health disorder- whether unrecognized, undiagnosed, undertreated or untreated. Half of all serious mental illness begins by age 14, and yet often treatment doesn’t begin until ten years later.

Many survivors find that volunteering to support others facilitates their own healing, too. I am a facilitator for the Survivors of Suicide support group in Albuquerque, New Mexico. This has been part of my healing journey.  I value the fragility of life and the sacredness of every story I hear, from others who have lost loved ones to suicide. I value the privilege of being a companion to other hurting parents along the road of loss.

I have also become involved with a local program called Breaking the Silence NM. The program offers school presentations across the state, designed to help young people be in touch with their own mental health, and identify when what they’re going through might go beyond typical adolescence. We want them to know that treatment works, and that there is no shame in either counseling or medication. Additionally, we focus on the strengths associated with talking with a trusted adult about their struggles without shame or embarrassment; the importance of getting support from their friends; and exercise, eating right, and avoiding alcohol and smoking.

My involvement in these things has helped me in my own continuing journey as a long-term survivor of suicide loss.

In 2016, in Chicago, I attended the first AFSP long- term survivors of suicide loss conference, called “Our Journey Continues.”  The acknowledgement I felt at referring to myself as a long- term survivor was a refreshing relief. Grief is still grief, but society, and even we survivors, haven’t always known how to refer to ourselves. Long- term loss needs to be acknowledged in the suicide survivor community. We still need to be gentle with ourselves and take time to remember. As the author Rachel Naomi Remen says, we need to recognize the value of “revisiting our wounds to see what might have grown there.”

I sense that Ryan has left me with many gifts. I believe I am a better human being. I am less impatient. (Though not always!) I am less judgmental, and view life less through a black and white lens, but rather in shades of gray. I realize now that there is so much I don’t understand about our human lives, but I sense the mystery in them. Since Ryan’s loss, I have cultivated deeper friendships with others. I see the wisdom in my wound that offers a place of refuge and meaning not only for myself, but for others. I see more of the deep down of things, and have the sense that God is not hurried along in time. This understanding has allowed me to give myself permission to slow down and be more mindful in my life.

Coping with long-term loss is different than the more immediate loss of early grief. And somehow, we learn to find and use tools like journaling and writing poetry that lets in a little more light. We learn to be okay with the grief process, and maybe even to accept that process. We educate ourselves about suicide, and some of us find a way to heal our grief through suicide prevention advocacy, as well as the community found within AFSP’s Out of the Darkness Walks, and International Survivors of Suicide Loss Day.

This poem expresses the longing I feel for my son, even as my life moves forward.

Don’t fade from my mind like words written on a letter long ago.

The memory of you was vivid and shot through with color.

The brightness of your smile, the warmth in your hazel eyes, the joy of your laugh.

With the passage of time I am unable to imagine how you would look now.

I see you through the sepia tones of time.

Stay sharp, stay poignant.

Don’t leave me again.

Desiree Woodland, “Thoughts from a Long-term Survivor of Suicide Loss,” AFSP

Phlox in Pink and White, My Forever Son, Suicide Loss and Complicated Grief-When Grief Gets Stuck

Coping with Impossible Grief: Losing a Child to Suicide

Nationally, suicide has emerged as the second leading cause of death for children ages 10-19 years old.

*Nearly 1 in 6 teens has seriously contemplated suicide in the past year.

*Suicide affects people of all backgrounds. 

*Early identification of risk factors can aid behavioral health specialists in prevention strategies for youth at risk of suicide.

*Suicide is complex and tragic yet often preventable if communities are provided with the right tools.

Beth Brown, My Forever Son, ” Where to Go for Support After Suicide Loss,” Nationwide Children’s Hospital, Center for Suicide and Research, My Forever Son


Books and Resources After Suicide Loss

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not a mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition and of unspeakable love.”

Washington Irving

Healing After Suicide Loss

After Suicide. Hewett, J. (1980). Westminster Press.

After Suicide Loss: Coping with Your Grief. Baugher, R., & Jordan, J. R. (2002). Self-published (contact b_kbaugher@yahoo.com).

Finding Peace Without All the Pieces: After A Loved One’s Suicide. Archibald, L. (2012). Larch Publishing.

Healing the Hurt Spirit: Daily Affirmations for People Who Have Lost a Loved One to Suicide. Greenleaf, C. (2006). St. Dymphna Press.

Life After Suicide: A Ray of Hope for Those Left Behind. Ross, E. B. (1997). Insight Books. Mourning After Suicide. Bloom, L. A. (1986). Pilgrim Press.

My Son, My Son: A Guide to Healing After a Suicide in the Family. Bolton, I. with Mitchell, C. (1984). Bolton Press.

No Time to Say Goodbye. Fine, C. (1999). Main Street Books.

Touched by Suicide: Hope and Healing After Suicide. Myers, M. F. & Fine, C. (2006). Gotham.

Helping Understand: Principles, Theory, Guidance

Devastating Losses: How Parents Cope With the Death of a Child to Suicide or Drugs. Feigelman, W., Jordan, J. R., McIntosh, J. L., & Feigelman, B. (2011). Springer.

Grief After Suicide: Understanding the Consequences and Caring for the Survivors. Jordan, J. R., & McIntosh, J. L. (2010). Routledge.

The Impact of Suicide. Mishara, B. L. (1995). Springer.

Left Alive: After a Suicide Death in the Family. Rosenfeld, L., & Prupas, M. (1984). Charles C. Thomas.

Living with Grief after Sudden Loss. Doka, K. (1996). Taylor & Francis.

Retelling Violent Death. Rynearson E. K. (2001). Brunner/Routledge.

Rocky Roads: The Journeys of Families through Suicide Grief. Linn-Gust, M. (2010). Chellehead Works.

Silent Grief: Living in the Wake of Suicide (revised edition). Lucas, C., & Seiden, H. M. (2007). Jessica Kingsley Publishers.

Suicide and Its Aftermath: Understanding and Counseling the Survivors. Dunne, E. J., McIntosh, J. L., & Dunne-Maxim, K. (1987). Norton.

Survivors of Suicide. Cain, A. C. (1972). Charles C. Thomas.

Why Suicide?: Questions and Answers About Suicide, Suicide Prevention, and Coping with the Suicide of Someone You Know (revised edition). Marcus, E. (2010). HarperOne.

A Winding Road: A Handbook for Those Supporting the Suicide Bereaved. Linn-Gust, M., & Peters, J. (2010). Chellehead Works.

Personal Accounts: Lived Experiences with Suicide Grief

Artful Grief: A Diary of Healing. Strouse, S. (2013). Balboa Press.

Before Their Time: Adult Children’s’ Experiences of Parental Suicide. Stimming, Mary, & Stimming, Maureen. (1999). Temple University Press.

Blue Genes: A Memoir of Loss and Survival. Lukas, C. (2008). Doubleday.

Do They Have Bad Days in Heaven? Surviving the Suicide Loss of a Sibling. Linn-Gust, M. (2001). Bolton Press.

His Bright Light: The Story of Nick Traina. Steel, D. (1998). Delacorte Press.

In Her Wake: A Child Psychiatrist Explores the Mystery of Her Mother’s Suicide. Rappaport, N. (2009). Basic Books.

Real Men Do Cry. Hipple, E. (2008). Quality of Life Publishing Co.

Seeking Hope: Stories of the Suicide Bereaved. Linn-Gust, M., & Cerel, J. (2011). Chellehead Works.

Stronger Than Death: When Suicide Touches Your Life. Chance, S. (1992). Norton.

The Suicide Index: Putting My Father’s Death in Order. Wickersham, J. (2008). Mariner Books.

Words I Never Thought to Speak: Stories of Life in the Wake of Suicide. Alexander, V. (1991). Lexington Books.

For Children and Their Caregivers

After a Parent’s Suicide: Helping Children Heal. Requarth, M. (2008). Healing Hearts Press.

After a Suicide Death: An Activity Book for Grieving Kids. (2001). The Dougy Center.

But I Didn’t Say Goodbye: Helping Children and Families after a Suicide. Rubel, B. (2000). Griefwork Center.

Red Chocolate Elephants: For Children Bereaved by Suicide (includes DVD). Sands, D. (2010). Karridale Pty Ltd.

Someone I Love Died by Suicide: A Story for Child Survivors and Those Who Care for Them. Cammarata, D.T. (2009). Limitless Press.

from After a Suicide Resource Directory

American Foundation for Suicide Prevention

SuicideData: United States State Fact Sheets

International Survivors of Suicide Loss Day

Each year, the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention supports hundreds of large and small events around the world, in which survivors of suicide loss come together to find connection, understanding, and hope through their shared experience. Learn more


5 Common Myths About Suicide Debunked

By Kristen Fuller, M.D., NAMI Blog, SEP. 30, 2020

Excerpts below can be found in their entirety at the National Alliance of Mental Illness (NAMI). 5 Common Myths About Suicide Debunked is a blog post by Kristen Fuller, M. D.

Within the past year, about 41,000 individuals died by suicide, 1.3 million adults have attempted suicide, 2.7 million adults have had a plan to attempt suicide and 9.3 million adults have had suicidal thoughts. 

Kristen Fuller, M.D., “5 Common Myths About Suicide Debunked,” NAMI Blog

5 Common Myths About Suicide Debunked

Here are some of the most common myths and facts about suicide.

Myth: Suicide only affects individuals with a mental health condition.

Fact: Many individuals with mental illness are not affected by suicidal thoughts and not all people who attempt or die by suicide have mental illness. Relationship problems and other life stressors such as criminal/legal matters, persecution, eviction/loss of home, death of a loved one, a devastating or debilitating illness, trauma, sexual abuse, rejection, and recent or impending crises are also associated with suicidal thoughts and attempts.

Myth: People who die by suicide are selfish and take the easy way out.

Fact: Typically, people do not die by suicide because they do not want to live—people die by suicide because they want to end their suffering. These individuals are suffering so deeply that they feel helpless and hopeless. Individuals who experience suicidal ideations do not do so by choice. They are not simply, “thinking of themselves,” but rather they are going through a very serious mental health symptom due to either mental illness or a difficult life situation.   

Myth: Talking about suicide will lead to and encourage suicide.

Fact: There is a widespread stigma associated with suicide and as a result, many people are afraid to speak about it. Talking about suicide not only reduces the stigma, but also allows individuals to seek help, rethink their opinions and share their story with others. We all need to talk more about suicide. 

Eliminating the stigma starts by understanding why suicide occurs and advocating for mental health awareness within our communities. There are suicide hotlines, mental health support groups, online community resources and many mental health professionals who can help any individual who is struggling with unhealthy thoughts and emotions. 

Kristen Fuller M.D. is a family medicine physician with a passion for mental health, NAMI Blog

If only a mother’s love

could have saved you,

been there to catch you fall 

tears stilled by the heavens 

to where now and forever,

you forever are­­

Beth Brown

My Forever Son: A Mother's Journey After Losing Her Son to Suicide

Parents of Suicides http://www.pos-ffos.com/
Friends and Families of Suicides http://www.pos-ffos.com/

These two online groups offer support, hope, and healing for parents, friends, and families of those bereaved by the suicide of a child.

Articles about POS & FFOS  

POS and FFOS groups are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. They are both online support groups, and they are free. I joined POS, Parents of Suicides, early in my grief journey, about a month after Dylan, my son, died by suicide. These support groups for suicide survivors consist of other bereaved parents (for POS) and family and friends (for FFOS). PoS has been instrumental in providing me hope after losing my 20-year-old son to suicide, especially in the agony of acute grieving, especially in my first two years of grappling with even wanting to keep on keeping on. 

 

The Stripping Away of A Child to Suicide: Where and How I Found Hope in Early Grieving

Have you ever felt the rain coming–smelled the wetness coming, the watering of the earth and the growth of life? Or felt the impending storm, clouds dark and swirling, all life tucking away into shelter, if it can, to bear out the heavy rain and threatening weather?
 
Have you ever felt its cold sting against your skin, or been drenched in its sudden downpour? And have you ever just listened to the rain–pelting loudly on a rooftop or gentle and steady against a window pane?
 
When it’s gentle, I sleep well and peacefully listening to the rain. And a sky rumbling with thunder and sharp lightening in the distance brings a certain edge, but I still find peace and safety when I am under shelter.
 
 
When Dylan died by suicide 2 years and 9 months ago at age 20, I found myself not just caught in the viciousness of a storm beating down on me, around me, flooding me, winds violent and strong, shoving me down, beating me down, taking away life and substance and hearth and home–no, when my son was stripped away by suicide–by such personal pain that exceeded his will to live, I found myself in a dark, black as night sky ocean–no light whatsoever, no stars, no light, no one around me, only rushing waters, turbulent throes of enormous waves, one upon another, incessant, drowning–desperate, frantic, unable to breathe, and oh dear God, I couldn’t find my son.
 
No shelter, no boat, no ship, nothing of life, only the depths of the Black Sea, drowning, screaming, gasping, wailing in the storm, the storm screaming and wailing, all of me dying.
 
I still do not know how it is I lived through the storm and my child did not. I do not know how I got there in the great vastness of the middle of the ocean in the middle of timeless dark and infinite pain. But when I could take a breath and came up from the murky waters, I could not find my son.
 
Down I went–up I came, tossing, churning, helpless, nothing to hold onto, and what couldn’t be–that I could not find my child.
 
I do not know how I found Parents of Suicides (an online closed support group for bereaved parents), save to say I was frantically searching the Internet for anything that might offer insight—hope, an answer to the why of what seems a senseless death. I searched “suicide,” “suicide survivor,” “mother of a suicide,” “losing a child to suicide,” and numerous other combinations. I had no words at this early point in my grief, no ability to listen, to speak, to comprehend, to stay present, to live.
 
But at some point, somehow, I stumbled upon Parents of Suicide and found myself in and amongst other parents the world over who had lost their son or daughter to suicide. I found something in this private online support group to keep me afloat in that storm and I was too tired and too in shock to do anything save ride out the waves of my life’s greatest storm. Parents of Suicides came alongside me and offered me refuge, albeit it in amongst my gasps and screams in the midst of the rolling tidal waves, wave after wave after wave, drowning me in the sorrow of the ocean of grieving.
 
 
 
 
I was at sea for a very long time. And so it is I read more on Parents of Suicides than I than talked, rarely writing or responding, but slowly, slowly, edging–drifting, floating, no grounding beneath me but the promise on the wing of those parents come before me, towards something in the distance. In the middle of great darkness, I saw light, heard voices, heard language other than my own screams and wails and sobs.
 
I had lived in my community, grief stricken, horror stricken, paralyzed, hopeless, burdened, where no one understood the depth of my sorrow. To this day, my only interaction with another mother who lost a child to suicide is when I drive two hours from my home once a month for an hour to a local support group for survivors of suicide.
 
Parents of Suicides offers grief support calls, hosted by a moderator, where parents across the United States in all time zones call in at an appointed time. I was terrified of calling. I didn’t want to belong to a group whose common denominator was losing a son or daughter to suicide. When I called in, finally, on a Parents of Suicide grief call, I was grateful and overwhelmed, finding such release because the first thing I heard a woman say was “Hi, I’m Sarah, Justin’s Mom.” (Names have been changed because this is a closed online support group). Oh how wonderful to be able to say not just my name, but my child’s name along with my own: I am Beth, Dylan’s mom. Today, this is my strongest identity and the core of who I am–Beth, Dylan’s mom.
 
There was no pressure to speak on this grief support call, no expectations. They were there to listen to my heart. And I am so grateful, too, that two or three other parents called in that night, all of us scattered across the U.S.–different time zones, different regional dialects, different climates and landscapes, but all existing at the same point in time and sharing what only those of us who are parents to suicides know–the pain, expressions, and heartache of losing our beloved children to death by their own hand.
 
I found those newly bereaved, and as I continued to call in, those further along this grief journey who offered hope and light and promise-not elusive, vague, trite clichés that “time heals” or any of the other absolutely ridiculous things those who do not live with loss say, but sharing their hope, strength, and experience.
 
Sometimes, and especially in the early days, weeks, and months, a parent further along their grief journey would remind me to “just breathe.” Losing a child to suicide takes your breath away. Not everybody knows this, but parents of suicides always do. Breath, this simple act of inhale after the exhale, sustained me through the minutia of milliseconds that seemed to drag forever my first year of grieving.
 
I have learned, grown, awakened, and come back to life through these grief calls–all of them, and I have been–and continue to take–as many as I can. When the dates and times of the calls are posted on Parents of Suicides, I immediately add them as reminders on my phone, and rarely does anything supersede my settling into my blue comfy chair, candle lit for Dylan and all Parents of Suicides’ children, to talk with those who get me–totally get me, with or without words, bright-eyed and hopeful or grief-ridden and laden with despair. No expectations. No one saying get over it–time to move on–no what I should be doing or could be doing–just listening ears with huge hearts because ours is a grief that fills us with compassion for other parents who lose children to suicide.
 
I love these calls–look forward to them, have gained great friendships, love absolutely love that I get to talk about Dylan, love that the other parents I’m talking to already know me and Dylan. I always find great release during and after these calls. No matter where I am in my grief journey, the calls are always timed perfectly for me to speak out about what’s going on in my heart, my life, my world. I find compassion and sympathy and understanding. I love our sharing, and I always gain insight into more about where I am.
 
I like hearing how other parents of suicides further along–4 years, 8 years, 10 years, 20 years out after losing their child, are embracing and coping with finding meaning and even joy in their lives. I am relieved to hear that they have not forgotten their child when they learn to laugh again and/or distract themselves with books, movies, work, or life, I like to hear how they honor and remember their children, and these parents of suicides offer hope and strength but never advice.
 
I do not want to always feel sorrowful and downtrodden, wishing I had died too with Dylan or that I were dead now. I hated living like this in early grief (it takes as long as it takes to move past this sorrow). I came to Parents of Suicides to read, to write, to participate in phone calls and in the Parents of Suicides chat room, to work it out. Posting helps, reading posts helps, writing to others helps, but talking to parents all over the U.S., all over the world, who are walking this journey? It’s amazing to feel not so alone, to find hope, even if only in small increments, especially in the beginning when, as parents of suicides, we are feeling so utterly alone and hopeless.
 
There is nothing to lose in a Parents of Suicides’ grief call, and there is simply nothing available like this for supportive listening and being fully understood. I attend private counseling, I belong to a survivors of suicide group, I read all the time, equip myself with what I need for this journey–all of these help bring light–like the newly found warmth and sunshine after a winter’s dark and cold slumber, but I have found nothing like the power of talking to other parents of suicides on these calls. I know parents by name, I know much about their child, and I share others’ journeys as they continue to call back in.
 
I find it remarkable what Parents of Suicides offers. This is a community to be reckoned with, and it is in my belonging here—united with others through the most devastating and tragic loss a parent can experience—the death of a child, that I have found enormous support. I love and cherish that there are moderators on Parents of Suicides who volunteer their time to bring together parents of suicides as collective voices. I feel at home when I come to this community. After having been lost at sea for so long, I have finally come ashore–not totally yet of this world, but learning to live again in this Parents of Suicides’ community of survivors.
 
 
Parents of Suicides always hosts a compendium group, an online  support group “Friends and Families of Suicides.” (FFOS). Both Parent of Suicides and Friends and Families of Suicides have a Facebook presence as well. In addition, annual retreats are hosted in Columbia, Tennessee where those of us left behind after losing a child, friend, and/or family member to suicide can gather for a 3-day weekend, where talk, tears, memories, and hope are shared, where, perhaps most importantly, we come to understand that we are not alone.
 
 
A drop of water does not a river make, but many drops of water the Parents of Suicides the world over make a river flowing with life energy. Alone, I am bereaved, desperate, depressed, and sad. On Parents of Suicides, I find strength, power, and hope. I find what I need to get me through, whether for the moment, That life matters. That my child mattered. That my son, Dylan Andrew Brown, lived and loved, and that by keeping on keeping on, I live for him now too.
 
We come bereaved and heartbroken, sad beyond means. Hope is found here. Help is found here. Possibility for keeping on keeping on is found here. Love is found here. And most importantly, other parents know that I am Beth, Dylan’s Mom. Always was, always will be. Here, I get to share about my son, the good, the difficult, the silly, funny memories, the precious, God, the so precious few memories of a lifetime’s worth of love.
 
If love could have saved him, Dylan would have lived forever.
 
I am Beth, Dylan’s mom
March 19, 1992-June 25, 2012
Forever my heart, my wings, my love
 

Crisis & Support Numbers (US)

 1-800-273-TALK
(1-800-273-8255)

1-800-SUICIDE
(1-800-784-2433)
Texting to a Counselor
#741741
For Deaf, Hard of Hearing, and People with Speech Disabilities who use a TTY, call
1-800-799-4TTY
1-800-799-4889

 

By Beth Brown

Rememberer of dreams. Whisperer of gardens green.
At the whim of "Most Beloved" and a hot cup of tea.
I live life between, straddled here now and then,
My continuity through writing--
Pen dripping ink, mind swirling confused,
Love lingering still, and Most Beloved's purring soothes.

Blogger at "Gardens at Effingham" (where cats do the talking) and "My Forever Son" (where a mother's heart runs deep after losing her son to suicide)
Musician. Writer. Literary Connoisseur.
At the whim of a calico cat and a strong cup of tea.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s