Instead, that day, he took his personal life. I referred to as 911, they usually walked me via CPR. In the tip, I couldn’t save him.
This is all nonetheless fairly contemporary to me. I’m usually requested, “How did your husband pass away?” and I discover that an extremely intrusive query, even when he hadn’t died from suicide by gun.
To rein in my feelings and anger, I’d like your recommendation on how finest to answer these questions — whether or not they’re from folks I’ve by no means met or folks with whom I do have a relationship.
If you are feeling my query and your reply could be of worth to your readers, I do hope you’ll publish it.
Recovering: As a public service announcement, I’m going to remind folks to not inquire about an individual’s reason for loss of life. In my (sadly in depth) expertise, grieving survivors will usually volunteer this information on their very own after condolences are provided and they’re feeling extra snug. If this information isn’t provided — don’t ask.
In response to this query, you may say a model of: “I’m not ready to talk about it.”
I really feel a particular connection to your story as a result of my family, like yours, is one in every of practically 50,000 American households annually to expertise the distinctive heartbreak of getting a member of the family die by suicide. (According to a report launched by the National Center for Health Statistics, suicide counts in 2021 totaled 47,646 — 4 % larger than in 2020.)
My nephew died by suicide at age 17, a number of years in the past. It would take volumes for me to pour out my personal sense of loss and disappointment. Many days I merely really feel robbed of the chance to proceed to know my nephew, who will now all the time stay his teenage self in my reminiscence.
I do know this — there isn’t any common expertise of grief. I want there was, as a result of then we’d provide you with a common reply for it.
For me, Robert Frost’s nice line usually involves thoughts: “The best way out is always through.”
My sister Rachel Dickinson has written (and illustrated) a phenomenal and heartbreaking assortment of essays about her personal expertise in grieving her son’s loss of life. Her distinctive path via grief led her to among the most distant components of the globe — not searching for solutions, essentially, however discovering her personal approach via. Look for her guide, “The Loneliest Places: Loss, Grief, and the Long Journey Home” (2022, Cornell Press).
Two other important books have helped me to understand the complexities of suicide: “An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness,” by Kay Redfield Jamison, and “The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression,” by Andrew Solomon.
There is help and support for people in crisis. Dialing 988 will route callers to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.
Suicide Awareness Voices of Education (SAVE.org) has a helpful list of support groups for suicide loss survivors.
Dear Amy: My adult stepdaughter, whom I dearly love, uses the word “LIKE” almost every third or fourth word.
She is smart, beautiful and a professional — but her speech pattern lends a different impression.
I have mentioned this to her a couple of times, and it almost kills me to do so, but observing others’ reactions (it is that noticeable) makes me sad. I don’t want to alienate her, but is there anything I can do to help?
Wondering: You’ve already introduced this up a few occasions.
Now it’s her father’s turn. If her father corrects her (privately), she may turn to you to complain about him.
That’s when you can say, “Well, this habit does distract from your awesomeness. Can I help in some way?” (Recording herself on video will alert her to this verbal tic.)
Dear Amy: Oh, those bickering twins who forced their “Twin Mom” to weigh their food to make sure they were getting equal portions!
My advice? Respond: “Don’t be concerned about what’s in someone else’s bowl unless you’re checking to see if they got enough.”
©2022 by Amy Dickinson distributed by Tribune Content Agency
