Offering hope, comfort and support for survivors of suicide loss.
Five years ago today, late in the afternoon, we received the call which shattered our lives. Our son, Tom, killed himself. My memories of that day are incomplete due to trauma. I do remember snapshots and short videos of the horror of the day which still have a hold on me although, through counseling, no longer suffocate me. Within hours, our family made the decision to be transparent about the cause of his death without realizing the ...
There are many things I remember about the day my son, Tom, died.
I remember the last thing I said to him and his reply. I have the last text he sent me about the books he ordered for his next quarter at college and the last text I sent to him when he was not home when expected.
I remember calling his dad and asking if he knew where Tom was because he wasn’t home yet. I remember his return call telling me Tom was dead and me arguing with ...
We have many pictures of Tom from his younger days. He often wore a huge smile complete with a gap between his two front teeth. You could see his love of life on his face. I look at those pictures now and long to hold that carefree child again.
As Tom matured, he did not like having his picture taken. He would sit for his annual school picture because the district required it for its records, and because I asked him to so I would have pictures ...
It is hard to believe that it has been eight years since losing dad to suicide. Much has happened in the last eight years, all of which my dad hasn't been a part of. I think that's what hurts the most. While we talk about my dad often, it doesn't replace the fact that he is no longer here. This year's anniversary seems to be hitting harder than it has in a while. Maybe it's the after-Christmas blues when the dust settles and there is little to ...
As my husband and I sat parked in our car at one of my favorite locations to play Pokémon Go, I watched a young, smiling couple with their two children playing in the multicolored fallen leaves. I opened my passenger window to feel the warm, gentle breeze and smell the river nearby.
The mother raked up a pile of leaves with her hands and then placed her toddler in it to take her picture. At the same time, the father collected leaves and threw ...
