Mosaic by Margaret Almon and Wayne Stratz of Nutmeg Designs.

Monday, May 21, 2012

About This Blog

This is a space for those of us who have lost loved ones to suicide.  When I created this blog, I wasn't sure where it might lead, but a number of conversations, emails, and other encounters over the past few weeks have led to me a sense that it might be time for me to host a place for conversations among suicide survivors (defined as those who has survived the suicide of a loved one). We'll see how it goes.

I am a wife of 38 years, a mother of three, a newly-ordained pastor in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), and a spiritual director.  That means that I spend most of my time following the activities of a computer architect husband, a law student son, and a daughter who's just completed grad school and works in community development; pastoring a small, rural church; and meeting with people who seek companionship in deepening their spiritual lives.  Our family lost a 24-year-old twin son to suicide three and one-half years ago, and so now I also do some writing, speaking, and advocacy work on parental bereavement and on suicide prevention.

If you have somehow found your way to this place, I am deeply sorry for your loss, and hope that you will find here a place in which to sit still as we reflect upon the past and move toward the future.


  1. As with all things, there are so many layers to the survivorship piece of my life.

    I have loved, consoled and supported many women who have lost a child or husband through suicide. It is a sadly common experience when there is alcoholism in the family. Your blogging and your sharing has been a tremendous help to me and to others.

    But I think my closest experience that really is soothed and healed by knowing you, is that my daughter was on the phone with a dear friend of hers as the pills took over and she lost her life. Being there for my daughter has been an enormous effort, the pain and grief and isolation and her sense of responsibility have all, at times, overwhelmed her.

    My prayer has often been to please not let this event take two lives.

    Companionship is, to my mind, something very lifesaving. And I thank you for being one of my heart companions.

  2. Cindy, I did not know that. My heart goes out to your daughter. All of those things she feels are such a difficult part of this terrible legacy.

  3. I hope you do not mind too much if some of us who get suicidal also hang out here sometimes. Your consistent expression of the magnitude of your own loss gives me hope in the possibility that suicide is NOT a solution.

    1. Of course you are always most welcome, Gaye!