Today I will prepare for tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will fly home. It is an all-day affair. I am visiting my daughter in another state. I came to help her recover from surgery. I have been here for six weeks.

Yesterday, my darling friend called my funeral home. Her family has suffered a tragic loss. I do not want to leave my daughter’s home; however, I am anxious to get home to help my friend. I leave conflicted.

I have experienced a tragic loss. I wish it weren’t so. I wish I didn’t feel the pain of my grandson’s loss each and every day, but I do. I have learned to live with it. I suppress the ache within my soul so that I can carry out my daily responsibilities. It doesn’t matter, though; the pain remains with me. It lies there, waiting for the moment that my head hits my pillow. When it does, it swells up and lingers with me until slumber overtakes my yearning to hold and love him with the intensity of a grandmother’s heart.

Children, no matter their age, are precious to those who love them. They steal our hearts and never return them to us. The sting of their death robs us of comfort, joy, and the anticipated experiences of enjoying a child growing up.

Time reverses itself, and things are out of order. Although I grow older, my life is frozen in the moment of his loss. Time stands still, never moving beyond the anguish I suffered when I held his lifeless, tiny, and innocent body. Every experience beyond that tragic moment fails to jump-start my joy as it once was, or ever will be again. Life is incomplete with the underlying absence of my dear, sweet boy.

Now I worry about my friend. She has lost her nephew. Her brother, also my dear friend, has lost his son. Their family must now overcome the deepest pain experienced by a circle of mourners; the loss of a child. I pray that they will live through such suppressive pain. It is too much to bear.

They are a spiritual family of evangelists. They believe in and praise God. I, too, acknowledge and praise God. Without faith, I do not believe I would have survived my grandson’s death. I hope they turn to God in their time of need for strength to get through the days that follow. For believers, His comfort is all that we can rely on. He is our strength, the power that sustains our lives through such tragedy and suffocating pain.

I shall see my friends on Wednesday. It will not be possible for me to see them without the force of my pain joining theirs. My heart is filled with sorrow for them because I know what is ahead for them. I know the self-doubt that comes, the anguish that floods a mournful soul, and the never-ending yearning to hold and love a lost child. I know the tears that flow, the chaos that overtakes, and the loss of will to live on.

As a grief counselor, I know they will suffer night after night, sleepless years of anguish, wondering what they could have done to prevent such tragic loss from materializing. My grandson died from natural causes; their child has not. They will suffer the unbearable pain of loss through suicide.

Losing a loved one can be so painful that companion deaths are not uncommon. To suffer the loss of your child (at his own hands) is barely survivable. The question now becomes, how do we help families who have suffered suicide within its ranks? There are a few things we can do to help.

The first and most important thing we can do for someone who has suffered a loss (primarily through suicide) is to hold onto them through love’s enduring strength. Doing this may be very difficult because the survivor may not want love expressed to them at this time.

The best way to show love to a survivor at their time of loss is to listen. Sometimes listening is painful, and it makes us very uncomfortable. Sometimes you may be listening to long periods of silence. It is essential not to interrupt the silence. Your survivor is silent because they are focused inwardly. They are trying to come to terms and find a place where their minds can sift through the chaos that death has imposed and intellectually understand what has happened. Whether the survivor is silent, crying, pleading, angry, screaming, or broken, the best thing you can do is be there. Allow them to express themselves in whatever manner they need.

The second thing you can do for your survivor is not to judge. This tragedy is so overwhelming that your survivor needs to know they are free to express whatever comes out without fear of judgment, condemnation, or reprisal. They need to know that no matter how they spew their pain, it will be met with acceptance. Your job is simply to be there, bear them up, and sustain their lives. Talking is not required, judging is not required, but listening, loving, and sustaining are the greatest gifts of all.

Remember, you are there for their needs, not your own. Supporting someone through tragic loss does not fulfill the supporter’s needs; rather, it preserves the survivor’s life. Hopefully, it carries them to a place where they are once again self-sustaining. Supporting a survivor calls for self-control and sacrifice. You must put their needs before your own because a survivor’s life can be fleeting at the early onset of loss.

After my grandson’s loss, not only did I think I would die, I wanted to die. It was the only way I could fathom that such pain would relinquish its hold on me. Had I not had other children and grandchildren holding my heart, I believe my heart would have indeed failed.

I am grateful for those who loved me through tragic loss, for those who served me, and for those who allowed me to express the most grueling pain and most profound sadness ever known. I am thankful they saved my life even when I wanted to give it up. I hope I can serve my dear friends through their loss as others served me through my own.

Tonight, as you lay your head down upon your pillow, and before slumber overtakes you, please say a prayer of comfort and recovery for all families suffering loss, most particularly for those who have lost a child or have suffered suicide.

I humbly pray for God’s blessings upon the earth. I pray that the arms of His comforting angels will engulf my dear friends and all those suffering at this time to quiet their anguish, bear their burdens, quell their fears, and bring peace to their souls.

If you, or someone you know, is at risk of suicide, please call the Suicide Prevention Hotline at 988. If you cannot remember that number, please call 911 immediately.

My name is Tracy Renee Lee. I am a Certified Grief Counselor (GC-C), Funeral Director (FDIC), published author, syndicated columnist, Podcaster, and founder of the “Mikey Joe Children’s Memorial” and Heaven Sent, Corp. I write books, weekly bereavement articles, Podcasts, and Grief BRIEFs related to understanding and coping with grief. I am the American Funeral Director of the Year Runner-Up and recipient of the BBB’s Integrity Award.



It is my life's work to comfort the bereaved and help them live on.