The Backstory to My Forever Son: A Mother’s Grief

What Happened? The Backstory to My Forever Son: A Mother’s Grief

Summary

What Happened? The Backstory to My Forever Son: A Mother’s Grief recounts the author’s harrowing experience of losing her son to suicide. Her story highlights her grief, guilt, and the healing power of writing. The blog “My Forever Son” came about as a way for the author to work through this devastating grief that follows the loss of a child to suicide. My Forever Son blog serves as a platform for sharing experiences and finding healing and solace in community.

Introduction

What Happened? The Backstory to My Forever Son: A Mother’s Grief shares the author’s deeply personal and heart-wrenching journey of grief after the unimaginable loss of a child. It delves into the profound emotional turmoil experienced in the aftermath, capturing the complexities of navigating sorrow, confusion, and longing.

The narrative recounts the pivotal moments and reflections that ultimately inspired the creation of the blog, My Forever Son: Healing After Losing a Child to Suicide, a platform designed not only to honor the memory of the author’s beloved son, but also to provide solace and understanding to others who are grappling with similar tragedies.

Related Reads

• Navigating Grief After Losing a Child to Suicide: Essential Resources
• 3 Years of Grief: Healing After Losing My Son to Suicide
• What to Say to Parents Who Lose a Child to Suicide
• Twenty Years of Love: Dylan
• Understanding Grief: 3 Years After Suicide Loss of a Child

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My Forever Son

Table of Contents

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A Mother’s Journey Through the Heartbreak of Losing My Son to Suicide

The night sky still casts darkness everywhere, the shadow shapes illuminated only by the yellow dim of my porch light. No moon and not yet sun rising. A deep dark lacking stars and sun, moon and morning’s dawn.

Beth Brown, What Happened? The Backstory to My Forever Son: A Mother’s Grief, My Forever Son

Out of a Deep Sleep: A Mother’s Story About Losing My Son to Suicide

The pounding on my front door continues. Am I dreaming? Bam, bam, bam. I open my eyes enough to see the clock on the nightstand: 4:08 a.m. Groggy and disoriented, I stumble down the hallway on my way to the front door. I can hear men’s voices–deep, yelling, echoing beyond the door. “Open Up–open up” they holler.

I glance in Dylan’s bedroom where our Gordon Setter, Maya, is whoofling her low, deep growl, an ominous warning that cuts through my haze of sleep. Dylan’s bed is still made, his teddy bear from his graduation party propped up against the pillow, innocent in its stillness.

Terror grips me. What’s going on? Why are there men at this hour? Are they here for us?

I turn the corner to the landing, my heart thumping so loudly in my chest that it drowns out the frantic yelling from the men at the front door. I freeze, gripping the banister, trying to gather my thoughts while my instincts scream at me to run.

Every second feels like a lifetime as the thudding on my front door grows more insistent. I’m caught in a swirl of fear, my breath quickening. I glance back at Maya; she’s not barking, but her body is tense, sensing my anxiety and fear. I can almost feel my dog’s protective instincts radiating from her, urging me to move, to act. To fix whatever this disorienting pounding was at our front door.

My mind races through the possibilities: should I call 911? Should I confront them?

The sound of footsteps thudding against the floor sends a chill down my spine, yanks me back to the moment. I take a deep breath, willing myself to sound composed if I manage to open that door. But with each tick, tick, tick of the clock on the sideboard beside me, I can feel the dread. Heavy. Weighted. Leaden.

What do they want? Why are they here? It’s not yet time to get up for work. The night’s still dark. I sense only dread. Nothing about this is right or normal.

I strain to listen but can only make out muffled voices, a cadence that feels foreign and ominous. With my heart racing and the feeling of a leaden weight in my gullet, I take a step forward. It’s time to face whatever shadows are screaming at me behind that door.

Something terrifying’s at my front door. Shadow shapes, their thickness and size, even dim in the yellow porch light, rise stark against the darkness of the night. The yellow porch light illuminates three men.

“Open up! Deputy Sheriff,” the tallest shadow, the big shadow, the dark shadow in the middle of three shapes hollered. “Open up!” “Open up now!”

The night sky still casts darkness everywhere, the shadow shapes illuminated only by the dimming glimmer of my porch light. No moon and not yet sun rising. A deep dark lacking stars and sun, moon and morning’s dawn.

Terrified and fully awake, I realize Dylan has not come home.

Pizza, a movie with his friends, home from his freshman year of college for summer break. Dylan, a sophomore home on summer break, will move back into his Ohio University dorm room in the fall.

Dylan is home for summer break. It is June 25th, 2012. Monday. 4: 08 a.m.

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Shadows of Grief: I Know the Shape of My Son’s Things

All I know of my life lives on my side of the door. Inside my house.

Inside my house: A teenage son. Big, floppy-eared dog. English papers to be graded. A British short-haired gray cat. Dylan. And on the outside of my door?

Cautiously, I open the door. A tall, towering man in the middle holds a plastic zip-top bag with Dylan’s Samsung phone and Fossil leather wallet.

The man’s presence is imposing, almost unnatural, as if he’s emerged from a different world altogether, a shadow world.

A dark world of shapes and figures I know nothing about, yet there he stands, this man, tall, ominous, telling me he’s the sheriff, holding my son’s phone and wallet sealed in a plastic bag.

Nothing makes sense. I feel only terror.

Even in the shadows, I know the shape of my son’s things.

The phone, with its cracked screen and dark case, is unmistakably Dylan’s—an extension of him, filled with reminders of teenage adventures, laughter, and hopes. The wallet, a gift from his grandparents on his birthday, holds snippets of his life captured in crumpled receipts and a growing collection of mismatched coins.

There’s a moment of silence, thick, palpable, as I take in the sight of this stranger. The beat of my heart echoes against the quiet of the hallway and the stillness of the night.

I feel an innate urge to protect the little universe that resides within these walls, the echoes of my son’s laughter and the comforting presence of our dog, sprawled lazily by the couch.

The world beyond my door, often curious yet chaotic, now feels threatening against the stillness of my home. The man steps closer. Climbs up my stairs to my landing where I am standing. Tick, tick, tick of the clock on my sideboard.

“We need to come in to talk to you about your son.”

Towering man in the middle announces he is the Deputy Sheriff. The other two men stand stiffly. If they told me who they were, I can’t remember. Don’t want to remember. I held my breath.

I can’t remember anything beyond what the deputy sheriff man said next. He spoke flat and monotone. No emotion. No sing-song cadence of everyday speech. No inflection of any words expressing feelings.

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A Mother’s Story of Unimaginable Loss

A Terrible Truth

“Your son had some convulsions. He didn’t make it.”

I collapsed into a chair. In shock. In heartbreak. My mind swirling with everything and yet at the same time, nothing. As if in a dense fog. Shock. Numbness. Shutting down. Screaming without sound. Screaming without words. Silent screaming in a place deep from within that I didn’t recognize as my own.

A guttural sound I did not recognize came from the depths of who I am. I had no words.

The man lay the plastic zip top bag containing Dylan’s phone and wallet on the sideboard, the same sideboard Dylan used to fling his backpack on after high school. AP American History book. AP Chemistry book. Literature books. Math book.

“There’s no need to identify his body. The ID’s been made.”

And just like that, my son reduced to what remained, to what could be reclaimed from all that was his life: his Samsung phone and his brown, trifold Fossil wallet I had given him for Christmas.

My 20-year-old son’s things in a hospital-issue plastic bag. Outside my door, the shadow shapes slipped away into the night.

Three men whose names remain unbeknownst to me had come only to deliver a terrible truth. No words of comfort. No hope. Only the stripping away of all I held true: My only child, my beloved son Dylan, had died. I still feel the piercing of my heart.

My only child, my beloved son Dylan, had died. I still feel the terrible piercing of my heart.

Losing my son shattered all that I was, all that I knew, all that I would (or could) be ever again. My heart stopped. My breath stopped. Time ceased to move forward. All of me felt suspended in a sense of the surreal.

The outside-my-door world had taken my son. From the inside-my-home world, the one I had made with Dylan for 19 years, I felt the cold delivery of my only child’s death draining the lifeblood from me.

I felt the cold delivery of my only child’s death draining the lifeblood from me. My life would never be the same.

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A Trail of Tears Where My Life Used to Be: Losing My Son to Suicide

This Was the End of My World As I Knew It

I couldn’t breathe. I collapsed deeply into the armchair, the one with the beautiful gold and burgundy brocade, the one where I always sat to grade papers and read books. The fabric felt comforting yet horrifying as my mind raced to process the devastating news. The room spun around me, filled with memories of laughter and love, now tainted by a darkness I never anticipated.

This was the end of my world as I knew it.

In complete shock, I started calling those closest to Dylan, his many friends and my family. Each ring of the phone echoed in my ears, amplifying the desperation and disbelief that choked my throat. My hands trembled as I dialed, numb from the tragedy that had just unfolded.

“Mom, Dylan’s dead.”

The words felt foreign and heavy as I uttered them, like stones dragging me into a deep abyss. She shrieked as she dropped her phone, the sound shattering the already fragile atmosphere around me.

“We’re coming over,” she managed to say, her voice tremulous with shock. I could imagine her face, pale and wide-eyed, grappling with the news as if her heart couldn’t possibly accept it.

Time stood still, each tick of the clock clicked, but as I sat there, grappling with the enormity of the loss, everything felt suspended. Stopped. Frozen.

Time stood still, each tick of the clock clicked, but as I sat there, grappling with the enormity of the loss, everything felt suspended. Stopped. Frozen. I thought about Dylan—his beautiful laughter, the warmth of his smile–and all of me collapsed from the inside out into a grief that changed my life forever.

Calls began pouring in from friends, each voice a reminder of the life that had been there just a few hours earlier. I struggled to find words, my thoughts shattered in sorrow and disbelief.

That’s the last thing I remember. All of me went numb. Suspended animation. Disbelief rallying against and yet fully aware of a hellish nightmare that was somehow my waking life.

A thick fog encased me. I could see, but I could not be. I was with Dylan, because how could I not be?

I was still alive, but I went away. It would be a long, long time before I would (and could) live again.

Related Reads

• Navigating Grief After Losing a Child to Suicide: Essential Resources
• 3 Years of Grief: Healing After Losing My Son to Suicide
• Navigating Grief: Three Years After Losing My Son to Suicide
• Understanding Grief: 3 Years After Suicide Loss of a Child
• What to Say to Parents Who Lose a Child to Suicide

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Author’s Note: A Poetic Quest for Healing After Losing My Son

Twelve years ago, I lost my 20-year-old son, Dylan, to suicide, a heartbreaking event that shattered my world and plunged me into a dark period of grief.

During those long months, I found myself grappling with overwhelming emotions and thoughts, questioning everything around me and struggling to make sense of what will never make sense. I entered into a deep grief filled with solitude and despair, a darkness so bleak I questioned ever being able to see light again.

In the beginning, I had no words. No voice. No ability to express the grief I was feeling.

My words were lost in torrents of tears, in stark contrast to the vibrant discussions I used to lead in my college composition and literature classes.

Perhaps it’s important to preface that I was teaching college composition and literature when I lost my son to suicide, a tragedy that shattered all of me. The irony of discussing the complexities of human emotion with my students while grappling with my own profound sorrow was not lost on me.

Each day, I faced the challenge of maintaining my professional facade, all the while battling an internal tempest that seemed insurmountable, wondering how to bridge the chasm between my role as an educator and the personal devastation I was enduring.

My Life Before Losing My Son

Books, lectures, teaching—I once felt empowered by my voice, a resonant tool for sharing ideas and knowledge. It was a time when I believed in the strength of my words and the influence they carried, inspiring others to think deeply and engage in meaningful conversations.

I reveled in the connections I forged through sharing my thoughts, feeling a sense of purpose in my contributions to the world. But when Dylan died by suicide, I felt consumed by my grief. My heart collapsed inward in sharp pain, I retreated from the outside world, and my words eluded me.

Teaching was impossible. Losing Dylan shattered my life, leaving me, on the outside at least, grappling with an overwhelming silence that echoed louder than any lecture or written page.

On the inside, I was screaming sounds I did not recognize as my own.

The Depth of My Loss Brought My Life to a Standstill

The vibrant energy that once fueled my passion for writing vanquished, and I found myself questioning everything without being able to lend voice to the confusion and overwhelming feelings I was moving through in my grief.

The depth of my loss silenced the joy I once derived from sharing my thoughts and connecting with others.

All of my life came to a standstill as I entered a place of deep grief. It is only in retrospect and in these twelve years past my son’s suicide that I see how all-consuming my grief was.

Diminishing the confidence that fuels expression, my grief stifled my voice completely. It’s been a difficult battle to reclaim my sense of self amidst such sorrow.

A Poetic Quest for Self-Forgiveness and Healing

Journaling was awkward. I couldn’t put all the pain I was feeling into words that did justice to the enormity of my heartbreak. But I kept writing. Slowly, in keeping a record of my grief, I realized I was creating a poetic journey about losing a child to suicide.

“Find Hope Here: Poetic Reflections on Grief and Healing”

Find Hope Here: Poetic Reflections on Grief and Healing is a heartfelt collection of poems and reflections by Beth Brown, the compassionate voice behind the My Forever Son blog. This poignant work navigates the deep, overwhelming sorrow that accompanies the tragic loss of a child to suicide. In her writing, Brown bravely shares her personal journey through grief, revealing how the act of writing poetry and connecting with the beauty of nature became vital sources of comfort and healing for her in the midst of such profound pain.

Through the author’s heartfelt verses, she reaches out with warmth and understanding to those who are journeying through their own sorrows. With her enchanting photography of the trees, shrubs, and flowers that grace her gardens throughout the seasons, Brown lovingly shares a beacon of hope, brightly illuminating the shadows cast by grief.

On Finding Hope: Photographing My Gardens Brings Healing

In nature, I find calm in the wake of profound sorrow and healing in the cycling of the seasons. Predictable. Beautiful in the spring, promising renewal after a long winter’s rest. Brilliant hues in the summer months. Autumn bringing trees and shrubs bejeweled in vivid reds, oranges, and reds. And then the stillness and monochromatic sketch of what can be a too long winter’s sleep.

Winter Wonderland: Captivating Photos in My Gardens

A Long Winter’s Rest for Trees, Shrubs, and Flowers

This dormant season in winter echoes the hopelessness of my grief: everything feels, looks, seems bleak and forsaken.

This dormant season in winter echoes the hopelessness of my grief: everything feels, looks, seems bleak and forsaken. An empty landscape. Gray skies for months. A blanket of snow in white, though only the stark limbs of trees and shrubs. At times, though, red berries appear on some shrubs, supplying food for birds and wildlife. All this to say I can’t see life against this wintry scene.

But in photographing nature through the seasons, I began to see (again), the brilliance of a long winter’s rest for trees, shrubs, and flowers. To study nature and botany is to realize that what appears lifeless is actually the process of life within all of nature renewing itself. Trusting in what I cannot see brings hope and healing.

Spring Brings Hope: Photographs of My Gardens

Spring Brings Beauty and Hope

Even against the cold remnants of a long winter–scattered clumps of snow, a robin redbreast plumped out to keep itself warm against a late March frost, brown dried leaves with nary a sign of color anywhere, spring breaks through. At first just small bits of color. A hint of purple as crocus push through thawing ground, then the vivid yellows of daffodils leaning towards the sun and the suddenness of blue bells. Rhododendron yawns and stretches its lavender limbs to awaken azalea, still sleepy with snow though greening beneath it all.

What seems forever gone in the gray doldrums of winter arrives with an abundance of joy come spring.

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Writing My Way Through Grief to Find Hope and Healing

Snippets of language emerged as poetic reflections

Three years into my grief, I began writing journal entries. Short. A few feelings. About my day and where I was in my grief journey. Then slowly, snippets of language emerged as poetic reflections. Words shaped the deep feelings and emotional longing in my heart, and as I continued writing, I began to find small glimpses of hope in unexpected ways.

Photographing my gardens garnered a way to coalesce all the many feelings and words I’d been unable to express. And the more I photographed through the seasons, the more glimmers of hope I found along the way.

Each poignant poem in Find Hope Here: Poetic Reflections on Grief and Healing is a dedicated blog post in its own right, replete with the inspiration behind the poem.

The poems included in Find Hope Here: Poetic Reflections on Grief and Healing appear below. Each poem is a blog post in its own right, oftentimes replete with the inspiration behind the poem.

Each poem moves the reader through the profound emotions of grief and healing after losing a child.

Many of the poems tell narratives I remember from my son’s childhood. This is significant–reconstructing the narrative of our lives during his growing-up years brings release for all the love and beautiful memories before the trauma of losing him. Writing these poems and narratives, these poetic reflections on love and loss, have helped me learn to carry love and ache together.

Still I write. Still I heal. Still I miss my son.

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From Shattered Hearts to Quiet Hope: Poems and Reflections for Parents of Suicide Loss

Find Hope Here: Poetic Reflections on Grief and Healing

If you are reading this, you know the unique and overwhelming grief of losing a child to suicide. This collection is for you—a place to find words and images that honor your pain, offer comfort, and gently invite hope.

Curated by Beth Brown, who lost her only child, her 20-year-old son Dylan, to suicide, these poems and reflections move through the rawness of early trauma, the depths of acute grief, and the slow journey toward healing, even thirteen years later. Each post pairs heartfelt writing with stunning garden photography, inspired by Beth’s own search for solace in nature’s resilience.

Hope can be quiet—listen for it in moments of rest.

You are invited to explore at your own pace. Choose what resonates—whether it’s a poem that mirrors your sorrow, a reflection that offers comfort, or an image that whispers hope. For more resources, stories, and support, visit the My Forever Son blog and discover a community that understands.

Contemplation Prompt:
Pause with a garden image. What does it say to you about survival, growth, or hope?

About the Author, Beth Brown: Writing My Way Through Grief

The love you shared endures beyond loss.

This collection is lovingly curated by Beth Brown, a mother who lost her only child, her 20-year-old son Dylan, to suicide. Over thirteen years, Beth’s journey through the depths of grief has been shaped by poetry, reflection, and the healing presence of her gardens. Through My Forever Son, she shares how nature’s resilience and beauty offer moments of solace and hope, even in the face of unimaginable loss.

Explore These Poems and Reflections at Your Own Pace

You are invited to explore these poems and reflections at your own pace. Each post pairs heartfelt words with stunning garden photography, offering comfort, understanding, and gentle encouragement for wherever you are in your grief. Select what speaks to you—let these pages be a companion on your path toward healing. For more resources, stories, and support, visit the My Forever Son blog and discover a community that understands.

Journaling Prompt:
What memories of your child bring both tears and warmth? Write a few lines, letting your heart speak freely.

You are not alone. Healing is a journey, and hope can bloom—even here.

Message of Hope:
Even in the darkest seasons, a single flower can remind us that beauty and life persist. Let these poems be gentle companions as you move through your grief.

Embracing Grief: A Mother’s Poetic Journey

From journaling to discovering the poetic language that encapsulates my grief, I penned my path to healing, culminating in the creation of my book, Bury My Heart: 19 Poems for Grief and Healing After Losing a Child to Suicide.

The anthology of poems in this book provides a profound and moving examination of grief, intricately intertwining original verses that delve into themes of loss, guilt, hope, self-forgiveness, and the path to healing. Expertly curated, the arrangement of poems invites deep reflection, serving as a treasured companion for those in search of solace and connection during difficult times.

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My Forever Son: A Mother’s Story of Grief, Hope, and Healing

The rest of my story, my grief journey through these past twelve years since losing Dylan to suicide, is housed in the posts and articles included in this blog, My Forever Son. My grief, hope, and healing are expressed through my stories, poems, photographs of my gardens, and songs I write.

My Forever Son provides support, hope, and healing resources and strategies, uplifting glimpses of hope, signs of healing deep grief along the way, and ways to cope through the raw pain of losing a child to suicide.

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My Forever Son: A Blog and Its Journey

Beth Brown, Author

About the Author

Beth Brown is a writer, educator, and bereaved mother who shares her journey of healing after losing her only son, Dylan, to suicide. Through poetry, essays, and her blog My Forever Son, Beth offers comfort and hope to others navigating grief, honoring the enduring bond between parent and child and celebrating the small joys that illuminate the path toward healing.

Meet the Author: Writing Through the Abyss

by Beth Brown

There are places that cannot be mapped, only entered—terrains of loss where language falters and the heart, stripped of its certainties, must learn to speak again. I am Beth Brown, a mother whose son, Dylan, died by suicide at twenty. My life, once measured by the ordinary rhythms of teaching literature and nurturing a child, was pierced in two: before and after. In the aftermath, I found myself wandering a wilderness where time bent, memory ached, and the world’s colors dimmed to the hush of grief.

On baby’s breath and angel wings,
You bring me love yet still,
— “On Baby’s Breath and Angel Wings”

I did not choose to become a chronicler of sorrow, but grief, relentless and unbidden, pressed its ink into my hands. I wrote because I could not bear the silence. I wrote because the ache demanded witness. In poetry, I found a way to hold both the weight of absence and the persistence of love—a language for the unspeakable, a vessel for memory, a place where my son’s name could still be spoken.

He left too soon,
Lifting life from June,
Casting torrents of rain.
— “He Left Too Soon”

There are nights when the world tilts, and I am returned to the moment of loss, the fracture that remade me. Yet even in the deepest dark, I have learned to listen for the faint music of hope, the pulse of love that endures beyond death.

Beat still my heart,
Beat still my mind,
Weary though thou art,
Carry his love along with thine,
Though heavy on thy shoulders
Crost fields throughout all time.
— “Beat Still My Heart”

My poems are not answers. They are offerings—fragments of a life lived in the shadow of absence, pieced together with longing and the fierce, unyielding devotion of a mother’s heart. They are the record of a journey through the labyrinth of grief, where each turn reveals both the ache of what is lost and the quiet radiance of what remains.

My child sleeps in a cradle of stars,
Gently rocked by the moon
Lullabies in his heart,
Heavens in galaxies swirl round to the sound
Of a mother and child’s love beating on.

Meteor showers, on the darkest of nights,
Bring comfort and joy to my child’s delight,
Aurora Borealis tints sky blue and green,
Where my child remembers his mother in dreams.

–“Falling Stars in a Moonless Sky”

There are questions that haunt the bereaved: Could I have known? Could I have saved you? The mind circles these unanswerable riddles, but the heart, battered and tender, learns to rest in the mystery.

I’d have reached right in to your dark night’s soul—
I would have held on, I would have clutched you,
I would have never let you go
But you told me “Mom I love you”
Oh my child, if I’d only known.
— “Once Upon a Blue-Sky Moon”

In the landscape of loss, I have discovered that love is not diminished by death. It is transformed—becoming both ache and solace, shadow and light, the filament that binds the living to the lost.

Body, mind, soul, rough and ragged,
Weeping tears falling still throughout time,
Carrying weight of mourning and grieving
Falling broken when thou wert mine.
— “Beat Still My Heart”

I write for those who walk this wilderness with me—for the mothers and fathers, siblings and friends, whose lives have been marked by the unthinkable. My hope is that in these poems, you will find not only the echo of your own sorrow, but also the quiet assurance that you are not alone.

Starlight for a mobile twinkling ‘ere so bright,
To remember his mother that darkest of nights,
When slipped he from her grasp and fell through this earth,
Tumbling still planets, sun, folding time in rebirth.
— “Falling Stars in a Moonless Sky”

That we might understand we cannot separate mental illness from physical illness.
That we might acknowledge no matter how great our love,
We cannot see inside another’s pain.
— “Ode to Suicide: That We Might Understand”

If you have come here searching for words to companion your grief, I welcome you. My poetry is not a map, but a lantern—casting light on the path we walk, together and alone, toward a horizon where love, undiminished, endures.

But boughs break and love falls through the cracks in the earth,
And the centre can’t hold when orbits, slung far, break their girth,
Gravitational interference, passing stars in the night,
Jetting orbs, falling stars in a moonless sky.
— “Falling Stars in a Moonless Sky”

Grief is wild—untamed, unending, and full of shadows. Yet within its depths, I have found moments of light: a memory, a poem, the gentle rustle of leaves, the warmth of a cup of tea. My words are both ache and love, a testament that even in the deepest sorrow, we can find meaning, connection, and—sometimes—hope. Through poetry, I reach for my son and for all who walk this path. If you find yourself here, know that you are not alone, and that love—like poetry—endures.

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If you wish to read more, my collection, Bury My Heart: 19 Poems for Grief and Healing After Losing a Child to Suicide, and other reflections await you at https://myforeverson.com/.

Bury My Heart

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The Story of My Forever Son

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Parents of Suicides: An Online Support Group for Parents Who Lose a Child to Suicide

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Parents of Suicides is a dedicated international online closed email group where parents who have lost a child to suicide come together to offer support, hope, and healing. Join a Community of Understanding. Parents of Suicides (PoS) provides a safe space for sharing experiences, coping mechanisms, and emotional support. You are not alone in this journey. Together, we can find strength and solace.

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What to Say to Parents Who Lose a Child to Suicide

What to Say to Parents Who Lose a Child to Suicide provides compassionate insights for supporting grieving parents during their unimaginable loss. The author’s personal stories create an emotional connection, highlighting the raw pain of such tragedy. By incorporating expert quotes and external resources, the article enhances credibility and emphasizes the need to break the stigma surrounding suicide, encouraging open discussions. Additionally, the practical suggestions for supporting grieving parents serve as a gentle guide through a difficult time.

Surviving the Suicide of Your Child: Support, Resources, Hope

Surviving the Suicide of Your Child: Support, Resources, Hope is about surviving the suicide of a child, offering a comprehensive resource for parents dealing with the deeply challenging experience. Personal stories, resource recommendations, and support options make it a valuable source of comfort and guidance for those in need. Author Beth Brown shares her personal journey and lists various support groups, resources, books, and poems related to grief after suicide loss. The content is well-organized, informative, and offers valuable resources for those going through a similar experience. It creates a sense of community and understanding for those dealing with such a tragic loss.

Healing Through Poetry: Grieving a Child’s Loss to Suicide

Healing Through Poetry: Grieving a Child’s Loss to Suicide navigates the difficult path of healing after losing a child to suicide. Heartfelt poems and evocative visuals create a soothing experience, inviting readers to connect with the raw emotions within each verse. This combination enhances emotional connection, providing solace to those who have faced similar struggles and offering a safe space for reflection. Through heartfelt words and imagery, the post encourages the grieving to acknowledge their pain, embrace memories, and seek healing and hope amidst despair.

Carrying Ache and Love: Healing Longterm Grief After Suicide Loss

Carrying Ache and Love: Healing Longterm Grief After Suicide Loss shares the author’s deep sorrow and ache from losing her son to suicide, gently exploring the complexities of grief and the lasting love she holds for him. She expresses the intense pain and hopelessness of early grief, highlighting the profound need for support and understanding during such a challenging time. In her search for solace, she discovered the healing power of support groups and research, finding a compassionate community of bereaved parents who helped her navigate the difficult journey of grief.

The Magnolia Tree: A Symbol of Grief and Resilience

The Magnolia Tree: A Symbol of Grief and Resilience explores the profound grief following the loss of a child to suicide, beautifully illustrated through the photography of a Magnolia tree that symbolizes the cyclical nature of grief. The author reflects on cherished memories—echoes of joy—while also acknowledging the deep pain of loss, represented as shadows that linger. The Magnolia tree’s resilience through changing seasons serves as a poignant metaphor for the author’s personal journey toward hope and understanding.

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Healing Words: Download 3 Compassionate Poems for Grieving Parents

Supportive Resources for Grief, Hope, and Healing

Helpful Resources for Navigating Guilt and Self-Blame in Grief

These Helpful Resources for Navigating Guilt and Self-Blame in Grief offer invaluable support for parents grappling with the profound grief of losing a child to suicide. Rich in compassion and understanding, they provide personal narratives, expert insights on grief, and essential strategies for healing.

Navigating Grief After Losing a Child to Suicide: Essential Resources

Navigating Grief After Losing a Child to Suicide: Essential Resources provides a compassionate guide to support parents through the pain of losing a child to suicide. It explores the journey of grief, the importance of support networks, and self-care during this difficult time. The guide offers suggestions for honoring a child’s memory, creating a meaningful legacy to provide solace amidst heartache.

Coping with Guilt After Losing a Child to Suicide

Coping with Guilt After Losing a Child to Suicide is a heartfelt exploration of the overwhelming emotions that parents face after the tragic loss of a child to suicide. It delicately unravels the deep feelings of grief, guilt, and despair that can engulf those grappling with such an unimaginable sorrow. Through intimate personal stories and touching quotes, it provides a compassionate perspective that aims to comfort and support parents on their difficult healing journey.

Self-Blame and Guilt: I Couldn’t Save My Son

Self Blame and Guilt: I Couldn’t Save My Son is a deeply emotional narrative that explores feelings of self-blame and guilt after the loss of a son. This poignant story guides readers through the tumultuous emotions parents face, sharing the author’s deep sorrow and questioning what could have been done differently. It emphasizes the need for support and understanding during the arduous healing journey.

“That All of Love Could Sweep Time Back”: Poem on Guilt in Grief

“That All of Love Could Sweep Time Back”: Poem on Guilt in Grief is a powerful poem that reflects the overwhelming “could’ve, should’ve, would’ve” guilt parents experience after losing a child to suicide. The poetic language directly addresses the haunting “What If?” and “Why Didn’t I See?” questions that plague those left behind, emphasizing the helplessness and regret that linger after such a tragic loss. The poem serves as a conduit for healing and self-forgiveness, exploring the possibility of moving beyond guilt and embracing acceptance, allowing love to shine through even the darkest of times.

Haunted by Guilt in Grief Poem: “Still from Sky I’m Falling”

Haunted by Guilt in Grief Poem: “Still from Sky I’m Falling” is a poignant poem that captures the intense emotions of grief and guilt after losing a child to suicide. The verses convey heartbreak and the struggle to find solace, using nature as a symbol for the grief journey. Vivid imagery of hawks circling above parallels feelings of despair, evoking a sense of helplessness in processing pain. Every line resonates with the weight of memories and the ache of loss, inviting readers to reflect on their own experiences with grief.

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Navigating Grief: Strategies for Grief and Healing After Losing a Child to Suicide

These resources for navigating grief offer helpful coping strategies and tips for suicide loss of a child. Practical advice and grief tips can help parents move through grief and healing.

15 Essential Grief Tips for Parents After a Child’s Suicide

15 Essential Grief Tips for Parents After a Child’s Suicide includes valuable tips and insights for parents grieving the loss of a child to suicide, offering practical advice on seeking help, connecting with others, and finding ways to cope with grief. The personal experiences and suggestions offer meaningful support for parents dealing with this devastating loss. A comprehensive guide for parents grieving the loss of a child to suicide, this post offers support and resources to help parents who lose a child to suicide navigate this difficult journey. Remember, you are not alone. There is a community of parents who are ready to listen, understand, and support you through this painful chapter of your life.

Navigating Grief After Losing a Child to Suicide: Essential Resources

Navigating Grief After Losing a Child to Suicide: Essential Resources s a compassionate guide designed to support parents who are heartbroken from the loss of a child to suicide. This resource delves into the multifaceted emotions that accompany such profound grief, highlighting the crucial need for self-care, the value of seeking professional help, and the comfort of connecting with support groups. It offers coping strategies and thoughtful grief tips, such as engaging in creative pursuits, finding peace in nature, and honoring your child’s memory through meaningful memorials.

Finding Solace After Losing a Child to Suicide: “Build a Life of Love Around the Loss”

Finding Solace After Losing a Child to Suicide: “Build a Life of Love Around the Loss”explores the emotional turmoil of grief and offers guidance for healing. Through personal narratives and expert insights, the article emphasizes that parents are not alone in their pain and provides 16 practical tips for continuing the bonds with the lost child. It highlights the importance of coping strategies, honoring deceased loved ones, and navigating the complexities of grief.

Support for Parents Grieving a Child’s Suicide: Guidance, Resources, and Healing

Support for Parents Grieving a Child’s Suicide: Guidance, Resources, and Healing is a guide offering support and resources for parents grieving the loss of a child to suicide. It emphasizes seeking professional help, joining support groups, and practicing self-care. The guide includes book recommendations, support organizations, and a glossary of terms to aid in understanding and navigating grief. Compassionate support is available to help you with your journey.

Healing After Suicide: Essential Books for Parents

Healing After Suicide: Essential Books for Parents is a comprehensive resource for parents grieving the loss of a child to suicide. The book offers a curated list of books, including practical guides, narratives, poetry, and novels, providing support and understanding for those navigating grief. The author, Beth Brown, shares her personal journey of loss and healing, emphasizing the importance of support groups and educational materials in the grieving process.

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Parents of Suicides: An Online Support Group for Parents Who Lose a Child to Suicide

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Parents of Suicides is a dedicated international online closed email group where parents who have lost a child to suicide come together to offer support, hope, and healing. Join a Community of Understanding. Parents of Suicides (PoS) provides a safe space for sharing experiences, coping mechanisms, and emotional support. You are not alone in this journey. Together, we can find strength and solace.

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Professional Resources and Support

Parents of Suicides is a compassionate, international online community for parents who have tragically lost a child to suicide, providing a safe space for support, connection, and resources to aid in their healing journey.

American Foundation for Suicide Prevention is a compassionate nonprofit organization devoted to saving lives and offering hope to individuals and families impacted by the profound pain of suicide.

Alliance of Hope for Suicide Loss Survivors offers compassionate healing support for those navigating the profound shock, heart-wrenching grief, and intricate emotions that arise from losing a cherished loved one to suicide.

The American Association of Suicidology is a compassionate membership organization dedicated to deepening our understanding of suicide and working tirelessly to prevent it, fostering hope and healing for those affected.

Nationwide Children’s Hospital Suicide Research Center is dedicated to conducting compassionate research focused on understanding and reducing suicidal behaviors, as well as providing valuable insights to prevent the profound pain of suicide.

Mayo Clinic offers compassionate insights into the profound sorrow of losing a loved one to suicide, helping us navigate the complex emotions that accompany such grief and providing guidance on finding solace and support during this incredibly challenging time.

The Compassionate Friends provide invaluable Grief Resources & Support Groups for Parents and Families navigating the profound heartache of losing a child, offering comfort and connection during an incredibly difficult time.

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Online Directory for Coping with Grief, Trauma, and Distress

After A Suicide Resource Directory: Coping with Grief, Trauma, and Distress
http://www.personalgriefcoach.net
This online directory links people who are grieving after a suicide death to resources and information.

Alliance of Hope for Suicide Survivors
http://www.allianceofhope.org
This organization for survivors of suicide loss provides information sheets, a blog, and a community forum through which survivors can share with each other.

Friends for Survival
http://www.friendsforsurvival.org
This organization is for suicide loss survivors and professionals who work with them. It produces a monthly newsletter and runs the Suicide Loss Helpline (1-800-646-7322). It also published Pathways to Purpose and Hope, a guide to building a community-based suicide survivor support program.

HEARTBEAT: Grief Support Following Suicide
http://heartbeatsurvivorsaftersuicide.org
This organization has chapters providing support groups for survivors of suicide loss in Colorado and some other states. Its website provides information sheets for survivors and a leader’s guide on how to start a new chapter of HEARTBEAT.

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Resources and Support Groups

Parents of Suicides and Friends & Families of Suicides (POS-FFOS)
http://www.pos-ffos.com
This website provides a public message board called Suicide Grief Support Forum, a listserv for parents, a separate listserv for others, and an online chat room for survivors of suicide loss.

Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors (TAPS)
https://www.taps.org/suicide
This organization provides resources and programs for people grieving the loss of a loved one who died while serving in the U.S. armed forces or as a result of their service. It has special resources and programs for suicide loss survivors.

United Survivors
https://unitesurvivors.org/
This organization is a place where people who have experienced suicide loss, suicide attempts, and suicidal thoughts and feelings, and their friends and families, can connect to use their lived experience to advocate for policy, systems, and cultural change.

Professional Organizations

American Association of Suicidology
suicidology.org • (202) 237-2280
Promotes public awareness, education and training for professionals, and sponsors an annual Healing After Suicide conference for suicide loss survivors. In addition to the conference, they offer a coping with suicide grief handbook by Jeffrey Jackson. This booklet is also available in Spanish.

The Compassionate Friends
compassionatefriends.org • (877) 969-0010
Offers resources for families after the death of a child. They sponsor support groups, newsletters and online support groups throughout the country, as well as an annual national conference for bereaved families.

The Dougy Center
The National Center for Grieving Children & Families
dougy.org • (503) 775-5683
Publishes extensive resources for helping children and teens who are grieving a death including death by suicide. Resources include the “Children, Teens and Suicide Loss” booklet created in partnership with AFSP. This booklet is also available in Spanish.

Link’s National Resource Center for Suicide Prevention and Aftercare
thelink.org/nrc-for-suicide-prevention-aftercar • 404-256-2919
Dedicated to reaching out to those whose lives have been impacted by suicide and connecting them to available resources.

Tragedy Assistance Programs for Survivors (TAPS)
taps.org/suicide • (800) 959-TAPS (8277)
Provides comfort, care and resources to all those grieving the death of a military loved one through a national peer support network and connection to grief resources, all at no cost to surviving families and loved ones.

LOSS
losscs.org
Offers support groups, remembrance events, companioning, suicide postvention and prevention education, and training to other communities interested in developing or enhancing their suicide postvention and prevention efforts.

Online resources

Alliance of Hope
allianceofhope.org
Provides a 24/7 online forum for suicide loss survivors.

Help Guide
helpguide.org
Provides resources and tips for how to navigate the loss of someone to suicide.

Parents of Suicides (POS) – Friends and Families of Suicides (FFOS)
pos-ffos.com
An internet community to connect parents, friends, and family that have lost someone to suicide.

SAVE: Suicide Awareness Voices of Education
save.org/programs/suicide-loss-support • (952) 946-7998
Hosts resources for suicide loss survivor including a support group database, newsletter, survivor conference and the Named Memorial Program, which offers a special way to honor your loved one.

Siblings Survivors of Suicide Loss
siblingsurvivors.com
Provides resources and a platform to connect with others that have lost a sibling to suicide.

Finding professional care and support

Find a mental health provider

• afsp.org/FindAMentalHealthProfessional
• findtreatment.samhsa.gov
• mentalhealthamerica.net/finding-help
• inclusivetherapists.com
• afsp.org/suicide-bereavement-trained-clinicians

Find a provider for prolonged grief

• prolongedgrief.columbia.edu

Find additional resources for marginalized communities

• afsp.org/mental-health-resources-for-marginalized-communities

Crisis Services

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline
988lifeline.org
Call or text 988 (press 1 for Veterans, 2 for Spanish, 3 for LGBTQ+ youth and young adults) or chat 988lifeline.org
A 24-hour, toll-free suicide prevention service available to anyone in suicidal crisis. You will be routed to the closest possible crisis center in your area. With crisis centers across the country, their mission is to provide immediate assistance to anyone seeking mental health services. Call for yourself, or someone you care about. Your call is free and confidential.

Crisis Text Line
crisistextline.org
Text TALK to 741-741 for English
Text AYUDA to 741-741 for Spanish
Provides free, text-based mental health support and crisis intervention by empowering a community of trained volunteers to support people in their moments of need, 24/7.

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Love and Loss: Profound Narratives and Poems of Grief

A Grandmother’s Love Held Together the Family Table

A Grandmother’s Love Held Together the Family Table offers a deeply personal and moving exploration of love and grief associated with family gatherings and the loss of a child. Framed through the lens of her son, Dylan, the story of the family table unfolds through his loving childhood memories. Against this backdrop of cherished memories, the author reveals the profound grief of losing a child, her son Dylan, to suicide.

Twenty Years of Love: Dylan

Twenty Years of Love: Dylan delves deeply into the personal journey of grief and loss, offering heartfelt memories and reflections on the life of Dylan. The emotional impact is palpable, and the piece effectively captures the enduring love and pain experienced by the author. The inclusion of links to additional readings about Dylan and resources for support is valuable.

Memorial Day: A Mother’s Reflection on Loss, Love, and Unimaginable Grief

Memorial Day: A Mother’s Reflection on Loss, Love, and Unimaginable Grief beautifully conveys the profound heartache and unwavering love that a mother feels for her son. The author shares her deeply moving journey of navigating the pain and challenges that arise from her son’s fourth suicide attempt on Memorial Day, illuminating the complexities of a mother’s grief intertwined with a glimmer of hope.

Navigating Guilt in Grief: A Parent’s Guide

Navigating Guilt in Grief: A Parent’s Guide is a compassionate exploration that acknowledges the intricate emotions that arise in the wake of a loved one’s suicide, focusing specifically on the experiences of parents. This guide delves into the deep, often conflicting feelings of grief, guilt, and despair that can engulf parents who have experienced such an unimaginable loss.

Walking Through Shadows: Surviving the Unthinkable Loss of a Child to Suicide

Walking through Shadows: Surviving the Unthinkable Loss of a Child to Suicide has a profound and emotional narrative in the form of a narrative poem that sheds light on the struggle of losing a child to suicide. The personal experiences shared provide an authentic and raw look into the journey of grief and healing. The author emphasizes the importance of staying true to one’s narrative and finding support.

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