The day I became the other person to lose their father to suicide I was 18 and on a plane going home. “Flight attendants, please prepare for take-off,” rang through the speakers. As I reached over to silence my phone, it buzzed. The words of a text read: “His father is dead.” As I was putting the phone away, it buzzed again. “It was suicide.” I sighed deeply. I too had gone through what he was now experiencing.
The day I became the other person to lose their father to suicide I remembered why sympathy doesn’t cut it. People don’t know how to talk about death. They struggle to find the words to constructively address the overwhelming feelings of sadness. A response that should be simple becomes overthought and awkward. As
