“This is not your
fault. There is nothing
You could have
done. Nothing you
could have
fixed. It IS something
that is awful and
horrible.”
-A minister in
Houston, TX
I have heard some great funeral sermons after a death by suicide, and I have heard some very
poor ones.
A dear friend recently sent me the video of a funeral sermon for her second cousin’s wife who
died by suicide at the age of 46. Suzy was an outstanding journalist, a fun, caring, loving person. I
didn’t know Suzy personally but by the end of the over 1 hour service that included videos, words
by her 2 young sons and friends, and a testimony from a colleague, I felt as if I’d had a friend die
suddenly and tragically. I was so moved by this service that I want to share some of it with you.
“You’ve heard a lot about her accomplishments,” the minister said. “She was an outstanding
journalist, advocating for children in subhuman conditions. The world does a real good job of
convincing us that we are less than and alone. There is so much hate and evil and hurt in the
world.”
“This is the place in many sermons where I would end with words of comfort and hope and not
mention mental illness or the completion of something as hard and difficult as taking one’s life or
that suicide is a real problem in our world. I am unable to convince you that there is sense in a
senseless loss that will take away the pain that exists in a world where mental illness affects so many
people; brilliant, hard-working, caring, loving people. It affects people who love deeply and are
deeply loved. I wish I had magic words for you because those things are hard and they are awful.
No other tragedy is as easy to label as something that it is not. There is no other illness that we
blame people for suffering from. If you’ve supported someone in the midst of difficulty that has
passed away, know that you have done nothing to have caused this. This is not your fault. You
could not have fixed this. It is just something awful and horrible.”
This sermon was a gift to those in that church. There are many other Celebrations of Life
and/or funerals where mental illness and/or the dreaded “S” word is mentioned and that is as it
should be. To normalize a death by suicide is what is needed. I’ve said many times that we don’t
have to like it; what we DO have to do is accept it.
As I sat with tears rolling down my cheeks, he continued: “Death is not the end of our stories. I
have a vision of a world in which enough people celebrate the really good things in their life that is
close by.”
When SPS Co-Founder, Sherry Bryant, told me years ago of searching for answers for her son,
Todd’s, death, a young Buddhist monk said to her, “His story is not over.” This has been shared
and written many times over. As we remember our loved ones, as the years from the death move
farther away, we are better able to share good stories and laugh.
We come together as a community to support one another in our most painful and difficult time.
WE talk about suicide. WE talk about mental illness. We support, and we listen.
The minister’s words came to me at a good time as I move toward the 45th observance of the
death of my mom, Ellen. Even I need that reminder occasionally that it was not my fault. Times
like that day or days of our annual SPS Walk (Sept. 14 this year) are times I can get a bit dark as I
think, “If only.”
A quote from Lao Tsu: “When I live in the past I am depressed. When I live in the future I am
anxious. When I live in the present I am at peace.” These are words I say to myself many times a
day.
I remind you all, that their story goes on. I remind you all that our story goes on. We learn to
live in a world that is different because our loved one is not with us; our loved one chose to end
his/her life. They ended their pain…
We survive and we eventually thrive. We move forward, we carry on, we keep them always in
our heart….
