What a lovely and insightful post. At 16 months since losing my son Nathaniel to suicide, I have been looking at my own journey and how to move forward for the remainder of my life. I think you really nailed the difference between guilt and remorse. I post regularly on Alliance of Hope, where bereaved parents arrive almost daily, and I will share this article as a powerful guide for those early in their grief journey.
Oh gosh Eric, thank you so much for your endorsement, it means a huge amount to me. Being able to ‘do’ something with this awful experience has made such a difference to my feeling I’m journeying forward…never ‘past’ the tragedy, because you will know only too well that we will always carry it. But it’s beginning to feel less like a weight, and more like a responsibility. A responsibility to all the children who left too soon, and to the parents who are picking up the pieces. I am honoured that my writing is helping you as you walk this path too ♥️
Thank you for this post, and I'm still working on letting go of the guilt. It is almost a daily act of deciding to put down the mantle of guilt (or the metaphorical hairshirt.) I felt (sometimes I still feel) that as Eve's mom, my job was to keep her alive, and to help her get to where she was destined to go. Sometimes I'll be out with a group of friends, and someone will say - I just want to keep my kids alive and out of jail! (cue canned laughter.) I know that suicide is bigger than just one person, but it doesn't mean that it stops feeling like that. Maybe one day. Thank you for this timely post. 💜
Oh, other people’s comments 🫣 Not meant to hurt us, of course, but they can feel so thoughtless. I guess we might have been the same in a previous life. You are not alone Molly…we all know this same place, this same guilt. Thank you for reminding me of this too 🤗
There is so much to appreciate and agree with in this excellent deep dive, Esther. I particularly like "you are the kind of person who is scrupulous in holding yourself to account, but this admirable quality is working against you right now."
Like you, I view emotions as evolutionary survival programs (check my essay "The sadness of the middle" for that). The prime parental directive is to ensure the child survives and thrives (and reproduces). So when people say to a grieving parent "you shouldn't feel guilty, you're not responsible", it always feels like a massive empathic failure because they ARE forever responsible.
When a child dies, their parent is condemned to a doom loop of regret and remorse because they can't make direct restitution for their failure to keep their child alive. The more loving the parent, the harsher and longer they are likely to apply the lash. I think the only answer is to always return to a place of love which is the source of all the suffering (I think you saw my essay "The winter of grief" about that). Holding on tight to that deep well of love allows for some warmth and light through the long dark night of loss.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, Esther. I am sure your writing brings a measure of understanding and comfort to other grief-stricken parents who happen to read your wise words. 🌱
Thank you so much Baird for reading and so generously commenting on my post, I know saying ‘It means a lot’ is a well-worn phrase but my using this is very heartful. The direction I have taken in the posts following this has been very much in line with your own observations about finding ways to harness our love for our child, so that this can sit alongside our loss. And so hopefully, in time, this love will come to call us back from our pain (our ‘yearning’ as I believe this is how we experience it) to finding we can experience the joy of a continuing relationship with our child once more.
I’m looking forward to reading the posts you mentioned, as I find your writing thought-provoking and soothing in equal measure.
Oh yeah... the guilt beast is the worst. Tomorrow is my cub's deathiversary. 2 years now. And even though he and I are good on a spiritual level, I still get those thoughts of "what if I had just..." They aren't helpful. They aren't fun. They're fantasies of a world that can never exist. I miss him utterly and painfully, but like you said, the best thing is to honor him and what we had, not get wrecked by guilt. Love this, thanks for sharing 💞🐻
The guilt beast…yes, that’s a good word for it Bear. The ‘what if’s’ are just another part of this endless circling around the feeling that nothing good can come out of this. But I refuse to believe this. They mattered…and what we did with their loss, in their name, matters too. Thanks for restacking x
I get to feel this guilt times 2. I lost my first and oldest son to suicide in June 2021 , and in June of 2023 was just starting to understand his death and how I wasn't responsible. But the last day of June 2023, my world fell apart once again when I received the call that my youngest son, just 23 years old, took his life. That weight will never leave me. I know how people look at me. Questions about how and why , my sons chose to end their lives. I feel responsible. I feel guilt. What did I miss? What did I do wrong as a parent? I have another son, I am obsessed with keeping him alive and happy now. I don't think the guilt and shame will ever go away
Oh Kim, I don’t know where to begin. You have had this tragedy twice over. It is not your fault…that’s the most important thing I want to say. I can imagine how hard it is for you to believe this, when lightening has struck twice, metaphorically speaking. But it can, and it does. When I write my posts I always think of the other mums (and dads) out there, all the suffering and heartache, and my deepest wish is that something I say helps, if only a little bit. And that they feel less alone. I am thinking of you Kim, and will continue to do so. Big hugs 🤗
Such a beautifully articulated piece Esther. People often say love and grief go hand in hand, but I also think love and guilt do too - always wondering if we have done enough, could we have done more - not justifiably, but there nonetheless.
This is beautiful Esther. And I totally agree - living out your days with guilt is not what Dom would have wanted for you. As hard as it is to heal. He’d want that. He’s choose that for you. Every time. Xx
Thank you Sarah, yes, I’m getting better at taking my own advice nowadays! So much easier to be kind to others, the trick is doing the same to ourselves, right?! Xx
This is such a well-articulated essay and I appreciate it.
I have known to the depths of my soul that I am not guilty of having caused my daughter's death by not doing enough, or being enough.
However, that is not say I haven't had my shaky moments when I've wondered if maybe I missed something. Guilt, for the most part I was able to keep at bay. Except for the few rare occurrences when it started a whisper campaign in the depth's of my brain.
Guilt is something that can be so hard on parents and their grieving process.
Yes, I think guilt is the biggest one, particularly for parents. Sometimes I wonder if we just skip the anger stage…except we don’t, we just become angry at ourselves for letting our child die…which is really just guilting ourselves. Thank you for your endorsement of this post…it was one of those which I kept having to re-read for sense…I’m sure you, as the great writer you are, will know the issue! So enjoying my time on Substack and making connection with other lovely mums like you!
I had a very beautiful and wise soul in my life early on remind me that I was never that “powerful.” I could not keep my son here, earth side. Also, on my knees to the ground moments I remind myself of, “nature, nurture, choice.” Our children come into this world with their unique natures, we nurture them to our best of abilities, and then they have choice. I understand my son did not choose to inherit the disease of addiction, yet how he chose to live in denial around it, and not seek the help that was offered on every corner he turned is on him. This is where the rubber meets the road. I cannot carry the immense load of guilt for long. I must set it down, and wonder if his soul was simply not destined to be here long in this incarnation? In gratitude for your sharing what so many of us feel. I keep writing, talking to others in bereavement, and try my best to live for two now. Loving and gentle care to all who land here. 💜🪶
Thank you Joanie. I think you are very wise to operate that mantra….nature/nurture/choice. When we lose our child because of their exercising their own agency it’s important I think that we don’t blame them or ourselves. Something about extending compassion to both ourselves and our child makes this thing feel like unconditional love for them and self-compassion (which is in truth the same unconditional love) to ourselves. And that is a soft place to land. We all deserve this.
It’s truly beginner’s mind for me daily. Yet, one thing that I do know for certain is that we are not meant to live in acute grief for a lifetime. Somehow, one day, it felt as if I might learn how to carry it. I could not have done it without my son, Douglas, showing me the way. I was determined to grow our mother/son relationship, and that is what we have been actively engaged within. I cannot begin to ‘know’ anyone’s path, yet what we can do is companion one another. I appreciate places where tender, complicated, and growth evolving conversations can take place. A deep bow to you for that. Mahalo Nui Loa. 🙌🏼💙
Had to look that one up…a warm thank you back Joanie! I’m glad you have such a strong relationship with your other son. I have with mine. Blessings still exist for us both ♥️
I have a daughter earth side. This is my relationship with Douglas in spirit. Didn’t mean to write in “code.” Grateful you have your son, earth side. Oh, how I miss those tight bear hugs. 🤗 Enjoy one for me! 💜
Oh bless you. Yes, Dom was the best hugger and whenever I see his brother, Marcus, I end up squeezing him very tightly…I know you will understand. I’m glad you explained…I completely ‘get’ what you’re describing now. It’s exactly the same with me and Dom…I still send him voice messages (mine to him and his back to me.) Not sure whether to confess this on a Substack post…a bit bonkers perhaps…but nothing feels particularly sane about this whole thing anyway! Take care Joanie x
This guilt was the absolute worst part of my grief. For exactly the reasons you mention here. Thank goodness I worked through it and realized it would destroy me if I allowed it.
Thank you Rea! I spent ages crafting this post, it felt so important to get it right, because I think it’s central to a parent’s suffering. And honestly, I needed to hear another parent further along who had reached a point of putting it behind them. I’m getting there!
It is a difficult road, dear Esther. You are doing very well. We get there eventually. The stage I have reached in my journey is both freeing and enlightening. The heartbreaking part of it is over. I didn’t get over my son. I accepted the new version of me and my life. We will always have that special bond, nothing can break it. I will always love and miss him, but I know he is with me. The bond between you and Dom will never break, it will only get stronger.
What a lovely and insightful post. At 16 months since losing my son Nathaniel to suicide, I have been looking at my own journey and how to move forward for the remainder of my life. I think you really nailed the difference between guilt and remorse. I post regularly on Alliance of Hope, where bereaved parents arrive almost daily, and I will share this article as a powerful guide for those early in their grief journey.
Oh gosh Eric, thank you so much for your endorsement, it means a huge amount to me. Being able to ‘do’ something with this awful experience has made such a difference to my feeling I’m journeying forward…never ‘past’ the tragedy, because you will know only too well that we will always carry it. But it’s beginning to feel less like a weight, and more like a responsibility. A responsibility to all the children who left too soon, and to the parents who are picking up the pieces. I am honoured that my writing is helping you as you walk this path too ♥️
Thank you for this post, and I'm still working on letting go of the guilt. It is almost a daily act of deciding to put down the mantle of guilt (or the metaphorical hairshirt.) I felt (sometimes I still feel) that as Eve's mom, my job was to keep her alive, and to help her get to where she was destined to go. Sometimes I'll be out with a group of friends, and someone will say - I just want to keep my kids alive and out of jail! (cue canned laughter.) I know that suicide is bigger than just one person, but it doesn't mean that it stops feeling like that. Maybe one day. Thank you for this timely post. 💜
Oh, other people’s comments 🫣 Not meant to hurt us, of course, but they can feel so thoughtless. I guess we might have been the same in a previous life. You are not alone Molly…we all know this same place, this same guilt. Thank you for reminding me of this too 🤗
There is so much to appreciate and agree with in this excellent deep dive, Esther. I particularly like "you are the kind of person who is scrupulous in holding yourself to account, but this admirable quality is working against you right now."
Like you, I view emotions as evolutionary survival programs (check my essay "The sadness of the middle" for that). The prime parental directive is to ensure the child survives and thrives (and reproduces). So when people say to a grieving parent "you shouldn't feel guilty, you're not responsible", it always feels like a massive empathic failure because they ARE forever responsible.
When a child dies, their parent is condemned to a doom loop of regret and remorse because they can't make direct restitution for their failure to keep their child alive. The more loving the parent, the harsher and longer they are likely to apply the lash. I think the only answer is to always return to a place of love which is the source of all the suffering (I think you saw my essay "The winter of grief" about that). Holding on tight to that deep well of love allows for some warmth and light through the long dark night of loss.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, Esther. I am sure your writing brings a measure of understanding and comfort to other grief-stricken parents who happen to read your wise words. 🌱
Thank you so much Baird for reading and so generously commenting on my post, I know saying ‘It means a lot’ is a well-worn phrase but my using this is very heartful. The direction I have taken in the posts following this has been very much in line with your own observations about finding ways to harness our love for our child, so that this can sit alongside our loss. And so hopefully, in time, this love will come to call us back from our pain (our ‘yearning’ as I believe this is how we experience it) to finding we can experience the joy of a continuing relationship with our child once more.
I’m looking forward to reading the posts you mentioned, as I find your writing thought-provoking and soothing in equal measure.
Many thanks
Esther
You are most welcome, Esther. It is an honor to be invited in.
Heartbreaking yet powerful, necessary and beautifully written.
Thank you Philip…spent ages on this one, helped me gain some clarity too. The power of writing, eh?!
Absolutely.
Oh yeah... the guilt beast is the worst. Tomorrow is my cub's deathiversary. 2 years now. And even though he and I are good on a spiritual level, I still get those thoughts of "what if I had just..." They aren't helpful. They aren't fun. They're fantasies of a world that can never exist. I miss him utterly and painfully, but like you said, the best thing is to honor him and what we had, not get wrecked by guilt. Love this, thanks for sharing 💞🐻
The guilt beast…yes, that’s a good word for it Bear. The ‘what if’s’ are just another part of this endless circling around the feeling that nothing good can come out of this. But I refuse to believe this. They mattered…and what we did with their loss, in their name, matters too. Thanks for restacking x
I get to feel this guilt times 2. I lost my first and oldest son to suicide in June 2021 , and in June of 2023 was just starting to understand his death and how I wasn't responsible. But the last day of June 2023, my world fell apart once again when I received the call that my youngest son, just 23 years old, took his life. That weight will never leave me. I know how people look at me. Questions about how and why , my sons chose to end their lives. I feel responsible. I feel guilt. What did I miss? What did I do wrong as a parent? I have another son, I am obsessed with keeping him alive and happy now. I don't think the guilt and shame will ever go away
Oh Kim, I don’t know where to begin. You have had this tragedy twice over. It is not your fault…that’s the most important thing I want to say. I can imagine how hard it is for you to believe this, when lightening has struck twice, metaphorically speaking. But it can, and it does. When I write my posts I always think of the other mums (and dads) out there, all the suffering and heartache, and my deepest wish is that something I say helps, if only a little bit. And that they feel less alone. I am thinking of you Kim, and will continue to do so. Big hugs 🤗
Gosh I am so, so, so sorry. It is absolutely not your fault 💞🫂
Such a beautifully articulated piece Esther. People often say love and grief go hand in hand, but I also think love and guilt do too - always wondering if we have done enough, could we have done more - not justifiably, but there nonetheless.
Yes…you are right. Thank you Suzanne so being such a thoughtful reader, it’s appreciated 🙏
This is beautiful Esther. And I totally agree - living out your days with guilt is not what Dom would have wanted for you. As hard as it is to heal. He’d want that. He’s choose that for you. Every time. Xx
Thank you Sarah, yes, I’m getting better at taking my own advice nowadays! So much easier to be kind to others, the trick is doing the same to ourselves, right?! Xx
Right x
This is such a well-articulated essay and I appreciate it.
I have known to the depths of my soul that I am not guilty of having caused my daughter's death by not doing enough, or being enough.
However, that is not say I haven't had my shaky moments when I've wondered if maybe I missed something. Guilt, for the most part I was able to keep at bay. Except for the few rare occurrences when it started a whisper campaign in the depth's of my brain.
Guilt is something that can be so hard on parents and their grieving process.
Yes, I think guilt is the biggest one, particularly for parents. Sometimes I wonder if we just skip the anger stage…except we don’t, we just become angry at ourselves for letting our child die…which is really just guilting ourselves. Thank you for your endorsement of this post…it was one of those which I kept having to re-read for sense…I’m sure you, as the great writer you are, will know the issue! So enjoying my time on Substack and making connection with other lovely mums like you!
I had a very beautiful and wise soul in my life early on remind me that I was never that “powerful.” I could not keep my son here, earth side. Also, on my knees to the ground moments I remind myself of, “nature, nurture, choice.” Our children come into this world with their unique natures, we nurture them to our best of abilities, and then they have choice. I understand my son did not choose to inherit the disease of addiction, yet how he chose to live in denial around it, and not seek the help that was offered on every corner he turned is on him. This is where the rubber meets the road. I cannot carry the immense load of guilt for long. I must set it down, and wonder if his soul was simply not destined to be here long in this incarnation? In gratitude for your sharing what so many of us feel. I keep writing, talking to others in bereavement, and try my best to live for two now. Loving and gentle care to all who land here. 💜🪶
Thank you Joanie. I think you are very wise to operate that mantra….nature/nurture/choice. When we lose our child because of their exercising their own agency it’s important I think that we don’t blame them or ourselves. Something about extending compassion to both ourselves and our child makes this thing feel like unconditional love for them and self-compassion (which is in truth the same unconditional love) to ourselves. And that is a soft place to land. We all deserve this.
Really appreciate you being a reader 🤗
It’s truly beginner’s mind for me daily. Yet, one thing that I do know for certain is that we are not meant to live in acute grief for a lifetime. Somehow, one day, it felt as if I might learn how to carry it. I could not have done it without my son, Douglas, showing me the way. I was determined to grow our mother/son relationship, and that is what we have been actively engaged within. I cannot begin to ‘know’ anyone’s path, yet what we can do is companion one another. I appreciate places where tender, complicated, and growth evolving conversations can take place. A deep bow to you for that. Mahalo Nui Loa. 🙌🏼💙
Had to look that one up…a warm thank you back Joanie! I’m glad you have such a strong relationship with your other son. I have with mine. Blessings still exist for us both ♥️
I have a daughter earth side. This is my relationship with Douglas in spirit. Didn’t mean to write in “code.” Grateful you have your son, earth side. Oh, how I miss those tight bear hugs. 🤗 Enjoy one for me! 💜
Oh bless you. Yes, Dom was the best hugger and whenever I see his brother, Marcus, I end up squeezing him very tightly…I know you will understand. I’m glad you explained…I completely ‘get’ what you’re describing now. It’s exactly the same with me and Dom…I still send him voice messages (mine to him and his back to me.) Not sure whether to confess this on a Substack post…a bit bonkers perhaps…but nothing feels particularly sane about this whole thing anyway! Take care Joanie x
Spot on write up Esther! Really have more thoughts- off and running to work. Definitely will take a deeper read tonight.
Thanks Majorie…don’t work too hard now!
Thank you for restacking, Chano 🤗
This guilt was the absolute worst part of my grief. For exactly the reasons you mention here. Thank goodness I worked through it and realized it would destroy me if I allowed it.
Lovely post, Esther!
Thank you Rea! I spent ages crafting this post, it felt so important to get it right, because I think it’s central to a parent’s suffering. And honestly, I needed to hear another parent further along who had reached a point of putting it behind them. I’m getting there!
It is a difficult road, dear Esther. You are doing very well. We get there eventually. The stage I have reached in my journey is both freeing and enlightening. The heartbreaking part of it is over. I didn’t get over my son. I accepted the new version of me and my life. We will always have that special bond, nothing can break it. I will always love and miss him, but I know he is with me. The bond between you and Dom will never break, it will only get stronger.
🕊️ x
Your words, every single one of them, are exactly the ones I want and need to hear. So grateful for you Rea x
This is the spiritual part of the journey. Sending peace.