When I lost my son, Charles, to suicide I thought that was the worst loss in the world.

A few months after his death I wrote an article about the agonizing grief

In that article, another mom posted a comment. She shared that her child had attempted suicide and, rather than dying, had survived with a profound brain injury, one that changed his life– and his family’s life– forever. In this case, it was completely debilitating. He couldn’t speak, bathe, make facial expressions, or walk and had to be fed with a feeding tube. It was physically, emotionally, and financially devastating.

And while part of her was glad he lived, she admitted part of her was almost sorry he did because he wasn’t who he was before and would he want to live that way?

In addition to grief, she felt guilt like many of us do. But her guilt was the result of wishing that her child had died. Her friends had not left room for this kind of conversation telling her how lucky she was, to which she always responded, “I sure am,” or “I’m so grateful.” Because she didn’t feel she was in a safe space to express that sometimes she didn’t feel grateful.

After reading the article, a fellow suicide loss survivor who’d lost his son sent a private message that said, “I thought losing David was bad. I am glad I’m not in her situation. Because I think it’s worse.”

A mom watched helplessly as her son lay in a coma for weeks after a suicide attempt

While he remained in the hospital bed, nurses spoke about her just loudly enough for her to hear. The doctor had recommended she “let him go,” and because she refused, the nurses became snappy and dismissive, treating her with frustration instead of compassion. They saw caring for him as a waste of time—an inconvenience when they had other, more “urgent” patients to tend to.

Their attempts to shame her into withdrawing life support only fueled her determination to hold on longer.

I ached for this woman, whose only child existed in limbo—neither fully alive nor completely gone. Eventually, she made the agonizing decision to let him go, but as a single mother with a fragile support system, she never forgot how she had been treated. The cruelty she endured in those final days stayed with her far longer than anyone realized.

All of these parents have lived through a kind of death of their child

There is always a grief process of letting go of what you thought it would be like whether a severe disability is the result of a suicide attempt, an accident, a medical error, or a congenital anomaly.

We should never assume. We should be willing to hear someone express difficult thoughts even if we can’t fix it. We should always express our condolences and never judge.

If someone has a loved one who dies or loses their quality of life, that’s a grief process, too. I can’t say if it’s worse or better. I’m only going to acknowledge that both situations are devastating and unexpected.

Have a story or example? Let’s hear it in the comments below.