Saturday, my life was typical by most standards. The very next day, Sunday, August 7, 2016, that same life was obliterated, shattered beyond recognition. From that day forward, my life would be measured in 'before' and 'after.' My oldest son, Alex, had been home from college for five weeks. He was 21, an incoming Junior, living away from home full-time. We were lucky that summer because the restaurant that he worked at closed for two months, and he chose to come home for most of that time. We loved having him home just as much as he seemed to love being there.

Alex struggled a bit that last semester, as many college students do at this place in life when 'things' often become more stressful. He had graduated with an advanced diploma from high school and was now attending a rigorous academic college. Alex joined a fraternity and began living in their off-campus house by his second year, where he had also taken on a leadership position. He had a serious girlfriend for a year, but they had called it off by January. His grades took a hit from having so much on his plate, and his mental health followed suit. He saw someone at the school counseling center a time or two, but they were overloaded, so his visits were too few, too far between, and unproductive. Though he had many friends, he didn't like to 'burden' anyone and often wouldn't reach out. He preferred to be the one helping others. He and I talked regularly, yet now I realize he must have kept much of what he was going through from me. Still, he seemed to be doing well by summer's end, even by his own account. 

On Friday, July 29, after over five weeks at home, I helped Alex pack up his car to return to college. It was just me, him, and his beloved 'girl' Harper (his 2-year-old pup). We laughed and joked as he gave me a big hug and kiss, followed by, "Don't cry, Mom, I will be home in 2 weeks for Nic's birthday." Though we did text a few more times during the week, that day would be the last time we spoke. Alex drove away that day, waving and smiling, with his whole future ahead of him. I was already looking forward to that next visit in just two weeks ...

It wasn't to be. Just 8 days after Alex returned to school, my youngest son Parker would get a call that would put him standing in front of me, struggling to say the words, "Alex is dead, Mom." Those words will forever ring in a hollow place just beyond my comprehension. You see, hearing it and comprehending it are two very different things -- Alex had died by suicide. Life as our family knew it ended in those moments. My heart lay in shattered pieces all around me. 

I am still unsure how, and there were (many) times I doubted it could happen, but I survived. Somehow, we have all survived. I have learned that traumatic loss by suicide changes us…on a cellular level, deep inside. We do not "get over" this, yet we can learn to move forward - bringing our child (or loved one) with us. Life will forever be different, but it can be (a new version of) good again.

On August 7, 2016, I became a "survivor mom". Deciding (eventually) to start the work of picking up my leftover pieces was beyond hard; it was so very lonely and required many intentional choices. And I am still a "work in progress," as they say. However, with a lot of hard work, finding tools, and heaps of support, I have learned to live successfully alongside my grief - most of the time, anyway!

A few years ago, after looking back at how hard my journey had been the first four years and not wanting others to struggle as I had to find resources and community, I knew I had to do something. It became my heart's mission to create a community of comfort, connection, and healing - specifically for grievers who have lost someone to suicide. "The Leftover Pieces; Suicide Loss Conversations" Podcast came directly from that motivation.

That's how I became a persistent, consistent champion in having meaningful conversations about suicide, mental health, trauma, and grief. I still produce this weekly "say-it-out loud" style podcast, but it has grown into more. You see, I discovered three everyday needs in all of the moms I spoke with... the need for resources (at the time of loss & beyond), connection to other moms, and the need to ensure that their child is remembered. So now I also facilitate an entire online support community, provide resources, and have even designed a Legacy project to highlight and honor our child's life. I am also an author, a speaker, a certified Master Grief Companion, Usui Reiki I & II Certified, and a trauma-informed group leader & healer.

In all of these spaces, I support fellow grieving moms so they may find meaning and even happiness again. Yet, despite all of this, I am still, and will always be, a grieving mom, too, so you will get the real deal and the real me, no 'sugar-coating' or over-promising in my world. I offer genuine love, compassion, kindness, knowledge, and a safe space for your shattered heart. 

While nothing about this is easy, simple, or quick, I believe any mom can survive, find hope, and move into a healing space just as I have. I know this is lonely, but you do not have to be alone. I am here. I hope we talk soon.  Melissa.