How to Respond After a Suicide

IMG_0695This photo is one I took at Lookout Point in Paradise, CA, overlooking Butte Creek Canyon. A place known for loss of life due to suicide. The words of this memorial are our voices.

Two suicides in the last month…

 A local teen dies. Gone. He is from a good family with loving support, friendly; a nice kid. I see his picture in the obituary column. The notice states depression as the cause of death. I assume that means it is a suicide, but I don’t know the facts. Next, I read about his death in a weekly column in the local paper. The columnist’s wife is in contact with this boy’s family. He tells of the victim’s young neighbor who asks “Where’s my friend?” The writer is devastated, moved to tears, unbelieving, grieving over this terrible loss of life. He says,

For the last couple of weeks I have been on the edge of heartbreaking family tragedy. It hasn’t involved my family and the heartache is not mine to share, so I won’t be offering any details. Suffice it to say a high school boy unexpectedly and unnecessarily died. . . .There was something about this particular horror that hit me very hard. I can’t remember the last time any single sorrow dissolved me to tears as quickly and as often as this one. …Against my own experiences, I am surprised how much this untimely death has affected me. My [wife] has had an official role to play, duties that she needed to accomplish, ways to help and serve the grieving family. . . . She has suffered through this experience and I am always attuned to her pain. Perhaps that has been a contributing factor in my own reactions. . . .” (Roger Aylworth).

A young adult ends his life. Gone. From a good family, employed in the family business, a sensitive young man who has no enemies. His mother says on her social media page that he’d been on medication for depression off and on in the past. The family was aware of his struggles. Then the much-feared happens. He ends it.  After the fact, a couple of weeks later,  I receive a private message. A friend asks me what he should do to help this family. The mother of the suicide victim has reached out to him. He remembers my recent post, “Suicide and the Christian Family.” I say a few things but I’m thinking, this really hurts, I’m so sorry they have to go through this.  I know the pain. I’ve walked it. The following is a short snippet cut from a longer response.

After my friend asks for advice. I respond with…

After suicide, there is a great need to talk. It’s such a helpless feeling. Even months later you find yourself stuck in the hurting place.

He responds back…

Thank you Norma for responding. You came to mind last night. . . . ‘After suicide, there is a great need to talk… it’s such a helpless feeling,’ you have said. Poignant, it was so-o-o-o apparent in her … messages to me. [The mother] is very vulnerable right now. She N E E D E D to talk, almost to anyone. I limited what I said, simply because I was determined to avoid the available, well-meaning cliches, but… it was so poignant, a woman, a mother . . .  desiring to tell me whatever I would permit her to say about her deceased son. I tried to put myself in her shoes and almost broke down in tears. I felt agony for her. It was late at night, aloneness, the pitiful starkness of it an almost crushing but necessary reality. Time for sleep, but no respite. It was painful for me, infinitely more so for her.”

The conversation made me realize that I must write about how to respond to a someone who has lost a dear one to suicide. People grieve and react differently. Some must talk. Others need silence. Sensitivity is needed.

Here is a list of helps to aid in knowing how to respond to a suicide victim’s family. These are compiled from three sources including my own experience; all of us have lost children and/or siblings to suicide. I have condensed what they shared with me.

Here is what families of a suicide victim would want you to know. . .

  • Approach the suicide victim’s family but don’t overreach. “People are uncomfortable, they don’t speak to us at church. They avoid us because they don’t know what to say. My ex-wife has quit going to church. It’s too hard for her right now. The family isn’t over this. In fact, we feel worse today than a few months ago.” (9 months since)
  • We need people to listen to us. We need them to be there for us without trying to figure it out, why it happened.
  • The family needs to be treated with respect, kindness and gentleness It is such a shock.  Everything hurts either physically or emotionally. Close friends who are now distant cause additional emotional  pain. It can make a person wonder why they have distanced from us.  We ask ourselves, is it judgment, disapproval, or misunderstanding about why it happened?
  • Permission is needed to talk about the trauma and difficult details. These are hard to wrap your brain around and it is also hard to ask all the tough questions.
  • Refrain from saying suck it up, put it out of your mind, and go on with life.  Allow people time to work it through. The grieving place is consuming of time and energy. A person will desire to emerge as a sane person, but this takes time.
  • Share pictures of the lost one and details about them are important. We need to hear their name and see pictures of them. This is important and comforting  because the past is all we have to last the rest of our life. We need validation that they matter and mattered.
  • Remember their birth date and their home-going (heaven) date. It means a lot when others remember these important dates and communicate this to the family. These dates carry a lot of emotion for the family. It is comforting to know others understand and care enough to let the family know they are thinking of them or praying for them. It is helpful in the healing process.
  • People who commit to praying for the family bring an extra measure of comfort. The family knows they are not forgotten. There are times the family members are unable to pray or express themselves, the crush on their heart goes deep.
  • Going out in public is difficult. It is difficult to see people. Talking about this is hard, especially if you’re not in the mood or it’s in a public place. For some, it may take months to return to former activities and church involvement. The family may need to isolate themselves, sit in the back, find a spot where they can weep if emotion hits them or a song brings the sorrow to the forefront. This may last a long while. Some songs or comments will always have the power to bring back the loss afresh. We still love the person we’re missing.
  • Be careful what you say or ask. It is better to say, “It is really good to see you” than “How are you doing?” Some weeks are rough and the tears will begin to flow right there in a public place. However, tears are a friend, a way to release the pain that is stuck inside. The first year one cries a lifetime of tears. Do not ask “How’d they do it?” The family will say how much they feel comfortable saying, telling more details to those closest to them. (I answered that one only one time and never again. I hated it because I hated the suicide, and I didn’t want anyone to consider it as an option.)
  • Suicide loss is hard. With suicide, painful elements are added to the grieving. It takes time to heal a broken heart in addition to the natural grieving process. You are not the same person you were before the suicide. The healing comes from the inside out. It remains an open wound unless or until it heals.
  • You may offer to accompany them to join a small group. Choose one that will uplift, support, and encourage them. One of my contacts participated in a Suicide Survivor’s Group when a friend offered to take her. Later she went on her own. It helped tremendously.
  • It is encouraging to have people come along side, share their stories and walk with you, especially those who have been there. It offers a healing balm. It makes you feel less alone in your suffering. It helps with the difficult questions as you wonder the things you don’t like to think about, one’s like; why was our family singled out? Why didn’t God intervene on our loved one’s behalf? These are rarely voiced but often thought.
  • Do not give unsolicited advice or say trite phrases. It doesn’t help. In fact, it hurts.
  • Listen, listen, and listen, and listen some more. Talking helps ease the hurt. 
  • Some say more than they should and seem stuck in their grief. Allow them to do this. They are processing their sorrow and sadness, and they are trying to accept the tragedy as best they can.
  • Refrain from saying their suicide was a “selfish act.” That was said to me and it hurt. I wanted to shout, “You don’t understand.” No one really knows the whole story.
  • Do something. A pat on the arm, a small hug, a simple note of encouragement that says “I’m praying for you” or “We care,” can mean so much.
  • Be available. Don’t push. Make an offer but let them decide. Later, offer again. The first year is a long one for the family. The grieving intensifies with each passing holiday empty of their presence.
  • Some families are very private. They don’t let people in. Respect this, and let them be. “Thinking of you” is a help to all.
  • Don’t try to find a reason for the suicide. Let the family sort it out if they wish.  They don’t need your opinion. It’s hard enough anyway. We grasp at straws, we rethink the past, we experience guilt, we feel we failed, and we blame ourselves. It is a burden for the family. One that can never fully be shed.
  • Don’t pretend or act as if nothing happened. This was an earthquake for the family. It will take years to recover. Say something. “I’m sorry,” is a good place to start.
  • Plant a tree or remember the person with some sort of memorial, even a candle or simple gift. There is a tree planted in the woods in memory of my sister. I often wished I would have planted one. It would be tall by now, a living memory of the sister I loved so much and will miss forever.

Please add your thoughts and comments to this list. It scratches the surface and is limited to the thoughts of my three sources.

My friends,

To all of you who have lost someone you loved to suicide, I want you to know that there are many of us who share your pain, who are your sisters and brothers in the suffering, and who want you to heal and recover by taking whatever time it takes. Your loved one was special. They always will be special despite the painful present.

God bless you,

Norma

For this writing, I chose to not include content specific to the spiritual other than brief mention of prayer and healing even though the spiritual is an important component. I may address it in a later writing. That said, the three who contributed content are in the faith community

ADDITIONAL LINKS

In Memory of My Little Sis, Lois Faith Brumbaugh, 1960-1993

Remembering My Younger Sister, Lois F. Brumbaugh

Lois’ Song, I’m Thinking of You

Suicide and the Christian Family

Suicide and the Christian Family (mine)

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
2 Corinthians 2:3,4 ESV

This week brought back painful memories. My heart-felt condolences to the Robin Williams family. Their grief far exceeds our national grieving. Losing Robin Williams, in the way we have lost him, has brought up the suicide conversation and has compounded the heartbreak. He was much beloved and treasured. I am not a movie buff, but I saw enough of his acting and brilliance to know that there was something extraordinary about him. His death will be one of those tragic losses you will remember “where you were when you first heard the news” akin to when we lost Princess Di, or President Kennedy which are distinctly etched in my memory. The after effect of suicide, the residual impact on a family, school, community, or nation and even world, has a ripple effect that touches everything in its path. 

mom and lois 001

1989-My sister came down from Oregon for a birthday celebration. Here, she and my mother are visiting in my home. Their birthdays were a day apart. The train candles were for my son on his third birthday, he and Grandma share the day.

I lost my youngest sister to suicide. It will be twenty-one years this September that I got the call, the one that broke my heart, crushed my parents, and hurt so deeply, a pain one cannot adequately describe. My sister was beautiful, talented, and successful. Her life touched many lives. In her thirty-three years, my sister used her gifts to bless others. I was proud of her and her achievements. The shock and sorrow almost buried us. Disbelief and sadness engulfed our days as we traveled to Oregon to bury her. It is a grief like no other. It is a pain I would not wish on anybody.

My family is a family of faith. Things like suicide are not supposed to happen to people in the Church, to people who love God. I used to believe we were exempt because of our faith in Him. It doesn’t work that way. In the years since we lost my sister, I have walked this painful reality of suicide with several Christian families. They have lost mothers, grandparents, uncles, sons, teenagers, and young fathers. It has claimed lovely people in our local area. I identify with the hurt, and I seek to comfort their families. I know the inexplicable pain and the emotional trauma that comes with trying to make sense of such unfathomable loss. “Why?” is never adequately answered.

The spiritual questions related to a person’s suicide go unanswered as well. Not everyone views it the same, about the person’s salvation or even God’s view of that person. The comment we hear that suicide is a selfish act is unkind and hurtful. I couldn’t disagree more. I have come to believe that pain skews perception, the person wants to escape the daily torment. There is a loss of hope that it will ever change or get better. I also believe the Deceiver is whispering in their ear and goading them, the “hearing voices” that people say they experience. He seeks to destroy individuals and families. Many are his victims. This is my opinion, but I think the Deceiver influences sensitive people to believe suicide is their only out. He wants to destroy what God has made and to bring the rest of us to our knees. But God is faithful. He redeems. He will make something new and beautiful from the ashes of life. He gives us a new song.

I made a personal choice that came as a result of my sister’s death. It has made a lasting difference in how I choose to live my life and how I relate to others. My viewpoint and perspective had changed. I saw how fragile life can be.  I decided I would listen more to my children and be less rigid in my parenting, I would listen more to others and be less rigid in my expectations (less judgmental), I would be more affirming of others and less disapproving. It was a conscious choice. I wanted to live in a way that would help people realize their value and know they are loved even when I disagree with their personal choices. It also started me on a path of interest in the emotional side of Christian living, looking for insights and understanding as it relates to the emotionally suffering child of God.

But there are uncomfortable, long-lasting experiences which forever impact us as a result of death by suicide. The person we lost can’t be talked about without a sense of sorrow and regret being present. We blame ourselves and carry a burden of guilt. We wish we would have acted, or called, or cared in some way a little differently than we did. Photos from “before” make you feel sad. They are a reminder of who we miss and what happened. The pain lessens with time, but it never fully fades away. A parent feels that they failed the child. They question what they did wrong. The child who loses their parent, wonders why they didn’t matter enough for them to stick around. Neither is correct. Closure is lacking. Peacefulness is hard to acquire. We blame ourselves. At some point, we have to stop, and then accept that they never meant to hurt us. They didn’t. Pain got the upper hand.

Some in the Chico community know my parents. They are very private people and would never want to talk about this. It is too painful for them. Until now, many of you haven’t known the loss they have endured. My family never let my sister’s death define us, nor has it shaken our faith. But, individually, we have questioned God. We wonder why He allowed it or failed to intervene? The loss of Lois is the single most devastating hurt my parents have ever experienced, and they’ve had a number of them. We don’t often talk about it even after all these years. Some of us can, but most of us can’t. I have found peace in my own way. About ten years after Lois’ death, I asked God to heal me of the hurt in my heart that was associated with her loss. The pain lifted, peace entered, and sorrow lessened. I share publicly because I know it will help others feel less alone in their suffering. It is not easy for me to do so.

My family has changed in some ways as a result of losing my sister. We are more demonstrative than we used to be. My father always greets his family members with a hug and is actively interested in our lives. Mother prays often for all of us but especially for the grandchildren. We have become more compassionate and understanding, less set in our ways and less rigid. We have become more sensitive and less prideful, and we identify with others going through tough times. We have learned how God truly uses our past heartaches as a way to bring comfort to others during their times of misfortune.

I end this with an old song that seems apropos. I shared these words in a Facebook comment to Kay Warren, wife of Pastor Rick Warren, The Purpose Driven Life, when she remembered her son, Matthew, on his birthday this year. She was sharing about her beautiful son who they lost a year ago to suicide. I felt her pain, probably intensified as a high profile Christian having to suffer something so personal in the public arena. I believe God was there to receive her son and to receive my sister. He understood their pain and struggle. Bessie Pearl O’Dell, a former Pastor’s wife from my childhood, spoke at my sister’s memorial service and made us all laugh as she remembered some humorous antics. How good it felt to laugh. a relief during a time of such great sorrow. A few months after Lois left us, I was voicing to Mrs. O’Dell how distraught I was still feeling. She said to me, “God knew Lois was in pain. He was there with her in her suffering. He let her come home.” Her words comforted me. They bring tears to my eyes as I write them.

I believe it will never be ours to understand some things. It is ours to bring good out of the hurt and to bring comfort where it is needed.

God hath not promised skies always blue,
Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;
God hath not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.               

                     Annie Johnson Flint

Norma Brumbaugh

If you would like  to read a tribute I wrote in Lois’ memory on the week of her birthday in 2013, click on the following link.  In Memory of My Little Sis, Lois Faith Brumbaugh.

If you would like information on ways to respond to the family of a suicide victim, click on the following link. How Best to Respond After a Suicide.