On Tuesday, my mom shared her wisdom on being a suicide survivor and everything she’s learned over the last 16 years. I still can’t believe that this week, March 10th, marked SIXTEEN YEARS since my father’s death. When I was thinking what to say about it on social media, one clear image immediately came to mind: Our carefree highway.

Let me explain.

I’ve shared this photo before, but it’s a really symbolic one. Here’s my dad on our last carefree family vacation, just 7 months before he died. So many of my favorite family memories were spent driving down the highway on those vacations, listening to oldies or Broadway soundtracks. On the anniversary of his death, I’m humming Gordon Lightfoot‘s “Carefree Highway” and thinking of him…

Carefree highway, let me slip away on you
Carefree highway, you seen better days

We had so many good days together in our little car, watching the landscape and scenery change outside the window, stopping at rest stops and enjoying lunches my mom packed. Life was good in that car. Everything was safe and I knew that as long as we were together, nothing could ever be bad or sad. For that moment in time, everything was right with the world.

Maybe that’s why I was thinking a lot about time this week. Time. It’s a strange, strange thing, isn’t it? March 9th was the night before my life changed forever 16 years ago. I went to bed excited to be on spring break from college. I woke up the next morning and my father was gone. No other moment splits my life into “before” and “after” as sharply; it will always be the dividing line by which I measure things

What I’ve learned over the last 16 years is this: Grief is like a river. Sometimes, it’s still waters. Other times, it’s a raging rapid. Part of the process, I’ve discovered, is learning to swim in both. It can be hard sometimes, trust me, but it is possible. And while my grief may ebb and flow over the years, the memory and love of my father will always be a constant. Maybe somewhere in some alternate universe, we’re traveling down that carefree highway, laughing and singing along to Broadway tunes… xoxo

Do you ever get the feeling that the universe is playing some cruel joke on you? Today is National Grief Awareness Day and I’m just a giant puddle of mixed emotions about the whole thing…

Part of me is raising my hand in solidarity and shouting “YES, AWARENESS!” because, honestly, awareness is such an important and valuable thing. Yet on the other hand, my cynical side is just sitting here saying “Well, I’m aware of my grief every day, so…”

When I say that I’m aware of my grief every day, I’m not saying that I’m grief-stricken to the point of being unable to get out of bed or crying all the time. And I’m not saying that I’m unhappy or that I’m unable to enjoy life.

Nope, I’m not saying any of that. At all.

What I am saying is that a piece of my grief and a piece of my loss is always with me. It’s not overpowering and overwhelming all the time, but it’s always there. Like a paper cut. There are times that you feel it more acutely than others — you know, like when you get salt in said paper cut and it stings like no other? Yes, that sort of acute.

That’s something I never truly understood about grief until I lost my father — how two diametrically opposing emotions like happiness and grief can — and do — exist simultaneously. But they do, and this is something I’ve talked about in therapy in recent years. It doesn’t have to be one or the other and you aren’t forced to choose one over the other, either.

And, honestly, I sort of appreciate that ever-present grief too. Because I feel like it keeps me tied to my father just as much as my happy childhood memories do. It’s an interesting dichotomy, for sure, and one I’m sure I’ll continue to explore in the future.

Here is a really great article on how grief never really goes away and it’s so important to recognize this in other people’s grief and be empathetic and compassionate in where they are in their journey. It might not be where you are and that’s OK. No two people walk the same grief path and it’s a very individual journey. Be a love and light for them on their journey, just as you’d expect the same from them while on your journey. And, here are some tips on grief that people on Twitter had to share — such amazing and helpful advice!

If you’re grieving, friends, I hope you know that I see you and I love you. What do you wish people understood about grief? What ways do you think people can help those who are grieving?? Here’s to getting through National Grief Awareness Day together… xoxo

[Photos via We Heart It]

Here we are again, friends. Another year has gone by, which means that it’s time for another birthday. This time, it’s my father’s 67th birthday. It’s still hard to believe he’s gone, but I’m thankful for all the memories that make me smile. Those memories are reminders that he’s still with me, especially when I think about the journey I’ve been on since losing a parent…

I struggled so long with “why?” Why did this happen? Why didn’t I see any signs? Suicide leaves behind so much confusion and even now, 15 years later, I still struggle with that confusion. Also, the societal stigma attached to suicide makes it really hard for survivors to feel heard sometimes. But that’s never stopped me from writing and talking about my experience because I think it’s so important for others left behind to know that they’re not alone.

I know I say this so much, but I don’t think I would have gotten through the last 15 years without the love and support of my mom and sister. The three of us banded together in our darkest hours and I am so grateful for them. Also, writing has been such a therapeutic tool for me. It’s helped me heal and work through my grief. I feel like I can express myself fully and find the right words through writing so much better than if I try to say them out loud.

The death of a loved from suicide — any death, really — is something you never get over. You may work through your grief and get to a point where it no longer consumes your entire being, but you never fully get over that pain and loss. Grief isn’t linear. It’s a process, full of winding roads and paths that sometimes go backwards before they go forwards.

How I’ve dealt with my father’s death might not be how other people would do it, but it’s the way I’ve chosen to do it. And it’s been an incredibly transforming experience for me. I’m remembering him today and always. I like to think he’s tucked somewhere in my heart and that definitely brings me an incredible amount of comfort. Losing a parent is a confusing journey at times, but I know he’ll ALWAYS be with me… xoxo

[Bottom photo via We Heart It]