Our Keepsake Journal is Here! 🎉

She was a devoted mother of two boys with her husband of 26 years.  With him, she owned a metallurgy company, ran a household, and in her spare time, produced tons of crafts by hand, most of which she sold. When her younger son was diagnosed with autism, she read everything she could find on the subject, volunteered, advocated for the autism community, and developed programs for autistic children. She spoke at the National Autism Conference and was co-authoring a book to help parents navigate an autism diagnosis.

We marveled at her energy and enthusiasm. She was at every family gathering, talking louder and faster than anyone else, her laughter punctuating every sentence.

But on a dreary, drizzly Oregon morning in February of 2013, my niece took her own life. The most poised, accomplished, witty person I knew was gone. It has never made sense to any of us.

In the aftermath of her death, and now 10 years later, I wish I had been a comfort to her husband, her sons, and my brother. Instead, I became immersed in an all-pervasive sadness interrupted only by bouts of rage. I watched helplessly as my family, one by one, slowly fell beneath a shroud of never-ending suffocating blackness.

RELATED: New Mom Takes Her Own Life After Silent Battle With Postpartum Depression: Why All Of Us Must Share Her Friend’s Plea

I learned that out of a fear of making things worse or a desire to insulate themselves from tragedy, people stay away. They mean to call but don’t. They can’t know that the family is suffering an unimaginable depth and breadth of isolating agony. Isolating because survivors feel alone in grief that is as individual as a fingerprint. We each grieve differently, and our path is unique and unpredictable. Grievers often feel lonely and abandoned even in the midst of friends.

Here are three things you can do to support the grievers:

Be there. At the first convenient opportunity, let the family know you are there. That your door is always open. If you were comfortable with the family before the death, you may feel awkward now, but this is normal.

Keep being there. Most friends and even family will move on in the months after, but the grieving family does not. They may slowly pick up their lives and learn to cope, but they will never be the same. They have become part of a club whose membership is thrust on them, and they can never withdraw. It is a top-drawer friend who will call years later on the death anniversary or birthday and say, “I was thinking of you today.” You will have given them a priceless gift of love and acceptance, the offer to listen.

Be there for them still, and you will learn what they need. If they want to share about their loved one who has died, let them. It may be the only thing they can talk about or it may be the only thing they cannot talk about. You may be the only person brave enough to walk with them here. Focus on how the family is doing and how they feel. Being there means you’re willing to experience some of the depth of profound sadness and despair they feel.

RELATED: An Open Letter to the Family and Friends Who Just Lost a Loved One to Suicide

Friends are not therapists, but they are life savers, especially for those who don’t seek counseling. It is hard to know what to do. Being there for a grieving friend is like concocting a complicated meal without a recipe and serving it to a starving person, knowing that despite your best efforts, your nourishment may not be palatable.

They may be struggling with doubts about whether they did enough, if what they did was wrong, if they caused this. The sustenance you provide may be what carries your friend through the hardest times because it may be the only healing emotional food they get.

Applaud their efforts to pursue healthy coping, seek supportive friendships, and regain some happiness. Remind and encourage them that you know they can function again someday.

Being there requires a rare bravery, which is why friends are scarce when suicide happens. We can’t fix the hole in their heart. But we can pray that God will. We can pray with them. They will feel our love, and it is in that love that healing will take place.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Laura Childers

I'm a retired RN who loves walking at midnight, stand-up comedy, and surprises.

Suicide Prevention Week: Know the Signs, Help Those at Risk

In: Grief, Suicide
Suicide Prevention Week: Know the Signs, Help Those at Risk www.herviewfromhome.com

As much as National Cheese Pizza Day, Beer Lover’s Day, or Read-a-Book Day are close to my heart, Suicide Prevention Week (September 5-11 each year) will always take top billing. Someone on Earth dies from suicide every 40 seconds–a rate that has risen 60% in the past 45 years, and continues to rise at an alarming rate. It’s heartbreaking, it’s painful, and it’s entirely preventable.  There is no single cause of suicide, but there are warning signs that you can watch for in the weeks, days, and hours leading up to the act. Knowing and understanding these warning signs are essential to preventing suicides...

Keep Reading

I Was a Normal, Suburban Mom Who Wanted To Die. Then, God Whispered.

In: Grief, Living, Loss, Motherhood
Mom walking with two children through tree lined neighborhood

Trigger warning: This post contains suicidal thoughts. If you or someone you know is thinking about harming themself, please call the 24-hour National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255 You are not alone.  I throw on some yoga pants, a T-shirt, and a headband—what I jokingly refer to as my stay-at-home mom uniform. I quickly gather my kids’ backpacks, lunches, and my own laptop bag and head out the door, trying not to step on the LEGOs spilled across the living room and entryway.  I live a seemingly normal, suburban life with my family. Sure, I’ve had hardships and life-altering experiences like...

Keep Reading

Thank You for Being a Friend Who Grieves Beside Me

In: Friendship, Grief, Loss
Friends with arms around each other photographed from behind

My loss has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to endure, and I honestly don’t know if I would be here without you and your love and support. To cry with you and to you. To sit with you in silence or filled with so many words. To feel you holding me literally and emotionally with your gentle and loving arms. RELATED: I’m the Friend With the Dead Mom To understand and witness that my loss is a loss to you too, and to feel that importance of my friendship and life to you. To randomly break...

Keep Reading