As a survivor of suicide, I have been given lots of advice. I've been handed papers, pamphlets and lists of books. I'm not sure if one is better than the other; each of them have something of value based on your experiences, your process of grieving, and whatever else you may be feeling.
But I'll share a few things that have helped me:
One of the things they all have in common first and foremost is to remember that you're not alone. It's important to be reaching out to family and friends, to remind yourself that there is still some living to do, that life can go on.
One paragraph that I found comforting was this: One learns to live with the loss, the tragedy, the waste, and the gaping hole in the fabric of one's life. There is no closure, nor would I want one. I want to remember my son all my life, vividly: his laughter, the scent of fresh cut lumber after a day's work, his moments of joy, his humility, his integrity. And especially his willingness to help anyone who asked for his help.
One of the hardest questions to answer is "Why??" It's common to replay the last few days over in your mind, to mull over the "what if's ... " that might have changed things. The hardest part is trying to come to grips with the fact that my son had some kind of mental illness. Suicide is almost always complicated, resulting from a combination of painful suffering, desperate hopelessness and possibly even some underlying psychiatric illness.
No matter how many times I say to myself "Brian, Brian, Brian", I have to somehow come to terms with the fact that I will never understand it all. The gaping hole left in my life has me feeling bereft for the time being -- but I have to believe it get better in the future.
I will always love my son, and remember him in all his best moments.
Because that's how it is with a mother's love.
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