Dylan: Forever Love and Remembered

Dylan: Forever Love and Remembered

Summary

Dylan: Forever Love and Remembered explores the author’s personal journey of grief and healing after losing her son, Dylan, to suicide. The article examines the profound impact of this tragedy, highlighting the intense emotions involved. It discusses the author’s search for support through therapy and community resources, emphasizing the importance of connecting with others who have faced similar losses. She finds solace in writing, which helps her articulate her pain and share her memories.

The post includes a poignant tribute, “Twenty Years of Love: Dylan,” from his aunt, Linda, reflecting on his life and the enduring pain of his absence within their family. This tribute emphasizes Dylan’s lasting impact on his loved ones and highlights the importance of mental health awareness and conversations about grief and loss.

Introduction

Dylan: Forever Love and Remembered explores the personal journey of grief and loss, offering heartfelt memories and reflections on Dylan’s life. Through poignant narratives, it evokes a spectrum of emotions, highlighting moments that defined their relationship. The emotional impact is palpable, effectively capturing the enduring love and pain experienced by the author, showing how memories can be both comforting and sorrowful. Readers are invited to connect deeply, feeling the weight of each word as they reflect on love and loss.

The inclusion of links to additional readings about Dylan and resources for support is invaluable, providing an opportunity for further exploration and helping others to find solace in shared experiences. In this way, the piece not only honors Dylan’s memory but also serves as hope for those facing the complexities of grief.

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My Forever Son

Table of Contents

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Remembering Dylan: Twenty Years of Love

(A Beautiful, Heartfelt Guest Post Written by my Sister, Linda, Dylan’s Aunt)

Twenty years: from birth, from before birth treasured and loved, Dylan. Held now in God’s hands, held always in God’s hands but oh how I wish him back.

I remember the first time I held him, how precious and small

In 1991, Beth called to share the news that she was pregnant. Beth had some health issues so there were trips to the hospital to protect her health and his, but finally, I got the call that he was born. I remember the first time I held him, how precious and small. I sat on the floor with him in my arms.

Dylan was a baby with colic who was soothed when my husband (Dylan’s uncle) held him

Sometimes I have random memories of Dylan. Dylan was a baby with colic who was soothed when my husband held him. Dylan first learned to “game” at age two by standing in front or the TV while his cousins played (or at least tried to play) Mario.

We are still finding Legos in the couch where he played

Dylan loved his Legos. He had a wonderful imagination as well as a real skill for building the complicated sets. We are still finding Legos in the couch where he played.

He was the youngest grandchild and the “baby” cousin

He was on vacations with us, at family dinners and celebrations. We had a Halloween party at our house. We loved him and treasured him. He was the youngest grandchild and the “baby” cousin.

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As he got older there were signs of the depression that got worse–We could no longer pretend his pain was not real

As he got older there were signs of the depression, signs that got worse as he began to use drugs. By the time he first was hospitalized for depression and addiction, we could no longer pretend his pain was not real.

I really wanted him to get well–and for a couple weeks, there were good times again

I really wanted him to get well. I am a recovering alcoholic myself who suffered horrible bouts of depression in adolescence and early adulthood. Dylan came to live with us in 2012 after he had overdosed and cut himself. For a couple weeks, there were good times again: Dylan was clean of drugs, Dylan was taking his antidepressant, Dylan was coming to dinner and talking and being with us.

But the turn downward, the spiral came, and he withdrew again

But the turn downward, the spiral came, and he withdrew again. I will be forever blessed with those few weeks of time we had, and forever second guessing, “Was there something else I could have done?”

Was there something else I could have done?

But our house was no miracle, no cure. There was not enough love to conquer his depression. After yet another overdose, he went to a center that treated depression.

There was not enough love to conquer his depression–but hope came when he went to a treatment center that treated depression

And there is hope again. As long as he was alive, no matter how ugly the attempts, no matter how deep his depression, we all kept hoping. I saw so much of myself in Dylan. I wanted to protect him and hold him the way we did when he was an infant, to keep him safe.

As long as he was alive, no matter how ugly the attempts, no matter how deep his depression, we all kept hoping.

As long as he was alive, no matter how ugly the attempts, no matter how deep his depression, we all kept hoping. I saw so much of myself in Dylan. I wanted to protect him and hold him the way we did when he was an infant, to keep him safe.

But his need to escape his pain seemed to grow not diminish

But his need to escape his pain seemed to grow not diminish.

On June 25th, 2012, I woke and took the phone downstairs with me. When it rang in the middle of the night, the hollow sound of my sister Beth’s voice, “Linda, Dylan’s dead.” changed my world. Those words that devastate, echo, haunt. Rocking and crying and howling, wanting to make it not real.  The pain is deeper than any pain I have ever felt.

My life will be divided into those two parts, when Dylan was alive and after Dylan died–it has become my calendar

My life will be divided into those two parts, when Dylan was alive and after Dylan died. It has become my calendar. I know in my head that Dylan’s pain was real, I know his depression was fatal, that suicide was the only answer he saw, but in my heart where I carry him, I don’t want him gone.

I know in my head that Dylan’s pain was real, I know his depression was fatal, that suicide was the only answer he saw, but in my heart where I carry him, I don’t want him gone.

Linda Taylor, “Remembering Dylan: A Journey of Love and Loss,” My Forever Son

I don’t want to learn without Dylan because what I really want is to have Dylan back

I want Dylan on the bench at family dinners, on the roller coasters at Cedar Point, joking and texting his friends. I want his quirky sense of humor, his laugh that I can still hear.

I don’t want to learn to live without Dylan because what I really want is to have Dylan back.

A gift from God, too soon returned: Dylan

Twenty years: too short. Loved and treasured from birth to grave and beyond, a gift from God, too soon returned: Dylan.”

“Remembering Dylan: Twenty Years” by Linda Brown Taylor, Dylan’s Aunt

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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 and that try as we might, we cannot see inside another’s pain.

–“Ode to Suicide: That We Might Understand”

And how my heart keeps on beating
Is a mystery to all,
For without you beside me
Through life’s depth I crawl.

I live now life backwards
My heart beating in time,
To the life that we lived
When you, child, were mine.

Try as I might
I can’t seem to live,
For my dreams all belonged,
To your future forward lived.

—“Bury My Heart”

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 is available on Amazon Kindle. and many other reflections await you at myforeverson.com.

Bury My Heart

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Related Reads

• “I Want It All Back”: Remembering Dylan, My Forever Son
• Understanding Suicide: It’s Not a Choice
• Memorial Day: A Mother’s Reflection
• A Mother’s Heartbreak: Confronting Grief and Depression
• My Forever Son, My Beloved Dylan: Just Breathe

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The Story of My Forever Son

If You Need Immediate Support

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.

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.

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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