A dear friend lost her son to suicide last night. She was one of the first people to follow this blog and I knew both her and her boy. I won’t share any more than that because it’s not my story to tell. Heartbroken isn’t a big enough word to describe how I feel.
For mothers and fathers who’ve lost a child, we never forget hearing the news.
Maybe some of the finer details are shuffled, but that desperate longing in our souls for one more hug and our irrational disbelief that it can’t be true steals our breath and … Read more...
When my son, Charles died by suicide on June 5, 2015, my house was elbow-to-elbow full of people by June 7 every day from 11 am-5 pm. That went on for a week. And I was grateful.
Family and friends surrounded me with love and the Southern tradition of dropping by, bringing barbecue, booze, and boxes of tissues. The hugs, food, and flowers from people’s gardens were what got me through that first tragic week and the funeral that followed seven days later was packed with mourners.
You can write it, perform it, listen to it but there is no denying that music can heal a battered soul.
It turns out music is connected to the pleasure center of our brains and is a great coping tool because it allows us to release feel-good neurotransmitters without resorting to booze, pints of ice cream, or shopping till we drop.
When grief renders words inadequate, music gives a voice to overwhelming visceral emotion.
“Months later, I am still feeling the effects of Diary of a Broken Mind….I lost my own son to suicide 15 years ago, and although I have read so many books about this kind of loss, nothing has touched me as deeply as this.” —-Mea
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This will be a signed copy plus a personalized message with your name, or the name of someone you list. And you can say what message you want if you want that. Where it say’s “Name for personalization” below the paypal button is where you … Read more...
I would walk through the grocery store, Lowe’s, or the drug store and no one looked at me or noticed me even if I was crying. My grief had transformed me into background noise. I wandered about in my own dimension for some time.
A little over two years after the death of my son, I got off a plane and walked up the boarding bridge into the airport. I can’t remember now where I’d been but I had arrived back into Richmond, VA.
When I first lost my son Charles to suicide I would go downstairs and take my hand and run it over the rosemary from the herbal basket my friend Preston sent. I would bend over, breathe in the scent and slowly exhale.
They say lavender is the grief herb. But for me, it was rosemary. I can’t really explain what it did for me other than I experienced a moment that hit the pause button on my grief and offered me a rare moment of peace. and comfort.
I often walk in the morning with my friend Virginia. And we … Read more...