I added a ghost of my son Charles to this family picture in Portugal to illustrate a point.
Perhaps one of the most challenging adjustments after losing my child to suicide (other than his absence, of course) is getting accustomed to the fact that we are a family of three.
Or do I still say four? I don’t know really. I struggle with whether to use the present tense or the past tense a lot.
Whenever I take a family photo, I feel we are missing someone, like we are an incomplete family without Charles. Then I feel guilty for thinking that those who are left are not enough. They are. The taking of family photos still feels….off. And my son died in 2015.
We do carry Charles in our hearts– talk about what he would have said, and how he would have walked right in front of us on this tour, bouncing around and stopping short at times in his staccato way of walking that would have one of us slamming into his back or stepping on the back of his shoe. Funny, what was once so annoying has now become charming in retrospect.
When visiting any exhibit or museum, Charles would point out exhibits and obscure objects while making up wild and funny stories about them. He’d always do the unexpected and make us all laugh. He is always with us and then not with us at the same time.
Other parents often feel similarly. Another mom saw my image and shared her family photo. She said she tries to include her daughter, Katie, and this is how she does it. She also admitted she has never become accustomed to their preternaturally abbreviated family. We both agreed it’s not always easy to have a giant photo to include. But we try.
While I have integrated the loss into my life, having learned to walk beside grief while also finding joy, I don’t know that this feeling of incompleteness will change for me.
I thought it would resolve over time and I’d get accustomed to it.
I have not.
What I have decided is that it’s OK to feel love, gratitude, and incompleteness at the same time. And nothing is wrong with me because I do.
AnneMoss Rogers is a leading wellness and suicide education expert and one of the top mental health speakers and suicide prevention speakers. Known for her powerful, motivational keynotes, AnneMoss combines her personal story of loss with proven strategies to help organizations build a wellness culture that drives results and saves lives. She speaks at conferences, workplaces, K-12 schools, and universities, delivering impactful presentations that inspire change and promote mental health awareness.
AnneMoss does this work in memory of her son, Charles, who struggled with anxiety, depression, and addiction, and died by suicide at age 20 in 2015.
MUM’S LOVE NEVER DIES
IT ONLY GROWS WITH THE TIME❣️
It’s been quite a long time since I had a dream—a dream to build a puzzle.
First, I had to find unconditional love, a love that would guide me from the beginning to the end of the journey. A love that I had to build and keep forever.
I began by crafting the pieces—one by one, year after year. I shaped them, making them beautiful and worthy, fostering in them a sense of harmony while preserving their strength and independence.
Years after year, with prayers, patience, and wisdom, I worked hard. Through successes and failures, long days and sleepless nights, time passed. The pieces were ready, complete and beautiful.
I started assembling them, piece by piece, year after year, with love and patience. The picture from my dream began to take shape—whole, beautiful, radiant. It brought joy to everyone who saw it. It spread peace, hope, and love.
But suddenly, a black shadow descended and snatched a piece of the puzzle. It spun him in a whirlpool of confusion, crushing his strong will and independence. It wrapped around him like a python, tightening its grip—stronger and stronger—until his last hope and his last breath.
Shadows drifted in the darkness.
It was over.
I lost one precious piece of the puzzle.
Despair and pain settled in my heart.
What about the unconditional love?
Love only grew stronger, seeking to fill the empty space. Only hope remained, deeply hidden in my heart, whispering softly:
“Love never fails.”
Nothing could separate us from love—neither the devil , the shadow, the darkness, nor death. Love never fades; it only grows with time, shortening the distance between us. And one day, the puzzle will be whole and glorious again.
💔Love never dies. It only grows with time.💔
This is a stunningly beautiful and heartfelt comment. I’m so honored you posted it here for others to enjoy and feel connected to.
I always include my son , who was killed in an accident. I tell people I have 3 sons, unfortunately was was taken. People understand, your child is always your child!
Thank you for validating that and sharing your story. It’s not wrong no matter how you answer. But I’m glad there are others like me.
Could not agree more.
People say that l loss my partner and should find someone new. But l didn’t just lose a partner; I lost a personality that was unique. I lost half of a Circle Proper and so now l can stumble as half a circle which no longer rolls over the uneven terrain of life. But l am stumbling less as l learn a new way of Balance.
Photos can make me very sad and so l avoid them a lot of the time. However, l love what you have shared (just another idea that some folks will find a measure of comfort in doing the same).
I think we can all experience a plethora of conflicting emotions and thoughts – and yes, that is fine too.
It’s like people think you can “replace” what’s lost like it’s a chipped mug. And the pictures. It took me years before I could look at the videos. And the photos were hard, too. This one was written two years after my son’s death. https://annemoss.com/2017/01/09/the-ache-of-pictures/
I always say I have 5 children, even though I lost my oldest Son, Jason, to a fentanyl overdose in 2021 during COVID and my son, Samuel, stillborn in 1993. I had 2 miscarriages as well, one at 16 weeks.
They are all my children and I love and miss those not with me today. Instead of focusing on the empty chairs at my table I carry them in my heart and reflect on all the love and empathy their lives have instilled in me. This is the silver lining in the stormy times. You are amazing, Miss Anne, and I am so blessed to know you. Thank you for all you do to spread hope while we all navigate the journey of grief.
So many losses and a beautiful way to process all of it, Cathy. Much love.
So very sorry for your loss, I lost a son in an accident, doesnt mater how, they were our children and we will always love them.
It hurts no matter how we lose a child. Much love Janet.
Dear Anne,
Your story always touches me. You are my teacher in this grief journey. This topic is relevant to my struggles and helps validate my emotions.
Thank you!!
Same. It really does help that others feel the same or similar.
I know exactly what you mean, Anne-Moss. We went from being a little family of three to just being a couple. I don’t feel like we have a family.
My parents who lost an only feel even more untethered. That would be a strange transition indeed. If you ever wanted to write about that gray… thanks for providing your perspective
AnneMoss — I’m confused since you say your parents lost “an only” but aren’t you another of their children?
I do appreciate this discussion — in our suicide loss group, the mom who lost her son to suicide at 17 says when asked how many children she has she just says 1 daughter. Her husband always says “2”. I feel it is dishonoring the child who died by not including him/her in your family count. I will ALWAYS say I have 2 children!
Gray has lost an only child. Do I was replying to her comment. So I have Richard, my oldest and I have a brother who is still alive. Gray lost her only son, Whitten.
https://annemoss.com/2018/03/09/whitten-and-me/
I have not lost a child but losing my partner is like losing my little personal family. Since his death, l have learnt that it is not always wise to share openly as people do tend to look at things from their own perspective.
My heart goes out to Gray and l hear her pain. Maybe some people need to find their own way through this tragedy and there is no right and wrong way. This is the reason, l think, as to why some people like Gray, feel as they do, as too the young mom who acknowledges having a daughter and not her son; to acknowledge her son may just by that more difficult for her whilst her husband has found his own way to deal with it. And maybe there are undisclosed factors such as a sense of loss which entails a lot of conflicting emotions and stigma (we have most likely all been there at some stage)
We should never expect people to be as we might be. There are many nuances to our personal loss and many individual personality traits that move us in whatever direction we are moved.
Suicide is complex and so is the grief that we are simply all trying to process.
As always well written plus your words make holding conflicting emotions as “normal” or “just breathe, it’s ok” or “lean on shoulder I hear you.”
Thank you Nicolle. Your comment makes me feel less alone.
So reflective of how I often feel. It is so comforting to know others are walking the same road even though we all wish we could be living a different reality. Love to all that read this.
From the start of writing a blog I have gotten so much comfort in the camaraderie of others traveling this journey.
Reminds me of Cormac McCarthy’s great quote..did U send it to u?
You may have. Quite frankly I can’t remember.