What Happens When No One Wrote You a Rulebook for This?

When Grief Finds a Mirror: Two Widows Share Their Journey Through Suicide Loss

Suicide loss creates a particular kind of grief—complicated, isolating, and often laced with shame. But when two widows sit down after over a year of connecting online, something powerful happens. Grief finds a mirror. And healing begins to take shape in conversation.

Recently, I sat down with MaKela for the first time in person. We’ve both walked the devastating path of losing a spouse to suicide—MaKela at 30, myself at 42. We’ve both checked the “widow” box far too young, raised children through unbearable loss, and faced a world that still doesn’t quite know how to talk about suicide.

A Love Marked by Struggle and Sobriety

MaKela opened up about her marriage to Michael, one filled with love, but also deep challenges. In the early years, there was verbal and physical abuse, alcohol addiction, and an emotional distance that seemed impossible to bridge. But everything shifted in 2022 when Michael found sobriety.

They began therapy. They welcomed their daughter. They were building something new—something hopeful. And then, one ordinary morning, he made her coffee, helped her pack boxes, sent a simple “I love you” text… and took his own life.

There were no visible warning signs that day. Nothing that screamed urgency or danger. Just the quiet ache of a question that many survivors carry: Why now?

“This Was His Sooner”

One of the most powerful things MaKela said in our conversation was, “This was his sooner.” That insight—grasped only after months of grieving—helped her begin to let go of the guilt and self-blame. She realized that, no matter how much love surrounded him, his ending may have already been written. It’s a heartbreaking truth, but one that helps survivors release the exhausting grip of “what if.”

Parenting Through Pain

Our children’s grief has shaped every step of our journey. MaKela's son was only four when Michael died. He doesn’t yet know it was suicide. She’s preparing for that future conversation by slowly introducing language around mental health and emotional literacy.

In my case, my children were present when their father died. They carry memories I wish they didn’t have. The challenge has been walking the line between truth and protection—being honest without overwhelming them, allowing space for both questions and silence.

There is no perfect script. Every family walks this differently. But if there’s one constant, it’s this: kids need room to feel, process, and grow—without shame.

Grief and Joy Can Coexist

What surprised us both was how much joy has managed to show up, despite everything. MaKela talked about line dancing classes, solo concerts, and quiet dinners during work travel. She’s found ways to reconnect with herself outside of motherhood and grief. I deeply resonated with that, as we discussed how “mom guilt” often tries to tag along with healing.

But joy doesn’t mean forgetting. It means choosing life, again and again, in honor of the people we’ve lost—and for the sake of the children who are watching us learn how to live.

What We Hope You Take Away

We ended our conversation with hope. Hope that our kids will grow up emotionally intelligent and resilient. Hope that we will love again. Hope that by sharing these stories, someone else will feel less alone.

This isn’t a path we chose. But we’re walking it—with honesty, grace, and even laughter. And if you’re walking it too, please know this: there’s space for healing here. There’s space for you.