Human/Parents Interview: Isabelle and Suicide Grief

Human/Mother welcomes Substack author of breathe yourself home!

Human/Parents is an interview series that explores and illuminates various mental health topics that some parents face while simultaneously performing the most important job on the planet: raising the next generation. Guests are Substack creatives who are also parents dealing with one or more of Human/Mother’s rotating monthly mental health topics.

This month’s topic is suicide grief.

So, pour yourself that third cup of coffee, snuggle in, get cozy, and get ready to meet our next guest:

Isabelle

from breathe yourself home!

Isabelle from breathe yourself home!

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Hi, Isabelle! Thank you so much for being here. I know that this interview won’t be easy for either of us, but I feel that it is important to have these conversations and publish them because there are humans out there — just like us — dealing with the same kind of grief, and it is a lonely and painful grief. My hope is that, through this exchange of words, we can help others feel seen, supported, and loved.

To start, I discovered you on Substack Notes, and I’m curious to learn more about what led you to begin posting your story, but, first, tell us a little about yourself. Where are you from? What has been your work/career experience? How many kids do you have, and how old are they?

Katrina, thank you. This conversation is such an important one, so I am happy to share my story.

I grew up in Quebec, then in my late 20s I moved to New York to work for a large-scale yoga and music festival that ultimately relocated me to Los Angeles. I have two precious young boys, ages 3 and 6.

How did you find writing, or, maybe, rather, how did writing find you? What led you to start breathe yourself home, and what is the goal of your newsletter?

I’ve always wanted to write, but anytime I tried, it felt forced. It didn’t flow the way I felt writing should. I always felt I was trying too hard. After I experienced domestic violence, I could feel so much bubbling to the surface. There was so much I wanted to say, but out of fear, I stayed quiet. After my husband’s recent suicide, the flood gates opened. I knew exactly how to say everything I wanted to say. Writing saved me, and continues to save me. It’s the only way I can make sense of anything that’s happened in the last couple of years.

My initial goal was to help anyone feel like they weren’t alone. I felt incredibly alone. I was in a domestic violence support group, then a suicide support group—but no where could I find a DV+ Suicide support group. In each group I didn’t feel understood. My goal remains to help others feel that they aren’t alone in complex grief.

How long has it been since you lost your husband, and, to the point you’re comfortable, perhaps you could tell us how that news was broken to you? What did that news feel like in your body, your mind, your heart?

I lost my husband to suicide on September 23, 2024. We had been separated, and hadn’t spoken a word to one another since November 24, 2023. That was the night of the assault, which led to an immediate restraining order with severe conditions. I was outside in the evening, looking for frogs with my boys. My brother was parked further down the street, but I didn’t notice. He tried calling, but I was getting the boys ready for bed.

His text read “call me when you’re done” and I felt something was wrong, but I was focused on getting the boys to sleep. Once asleep, I called him and he said “I’m outside”. I knew right away. His words “they found him today” crushed my spirit. “Him” as in my Tim. It didn’t feel real.

I shouted “no” for hours. I wanted to leave my body. The grief was so desperate, I wanted to tear myself apart. I couldn’t contain the grief—it was just too big.

How did you break the news to your children? Did you consult a professional or other family member or friend before you told them?

I think I waited a month before telling them. At first, I couldn’t imagine telling them at all. They witnessed their father assaulting me, forcing us to leave our home forever, and now he’s gone? It just felt like way too much for a little person to hold. I consulted with an organization in Montreal, who specializes in supporting children who’ve lost a parent to suicide. They encouraged me to be completely truthful, which I had planned to do. I consulted with my eldest’s therapist, role playing the conversation I would have with them, and finding all the areas they may ask questions, and preparing those answers in a child appropriate way. I knew my eldest was going to ask me how he ended his life, so I prepared for that answer as well. That was the hardest part.

I created a book for the boys, as if it were written by their father, with so many pictures of happier times together. The book was mainly their father saying that he loved them, and that it isn’t their fault. I also talked about his mental health struggles, and what the boys should do if ever they are struggling. They knew I wrote the book, but I told them I knew this is what their father would have wanted to tell them.

There are so many resources, but what is most important is to surround your children with people who love them, so they feel safe in a container of support. I always remind myself to just BE with them, that is what is most important for their growth through this earth shattering loss—knowing I am here.

This is the post I shared that details how I told the boys their father had ended his life:

Here’s a great resource for parents to learn how to have the conversation:

Winston’s Wish (Giving hope to grieving children)

And here are a couple of great children’s books that have helped us:

• Cori Doerrfeld’s The Rabbit Listened

• Carla Mitchell’s I Am Here For You!: A Story to Support Your Grieving Child Through Death From Suicide

Are your kids currently attending school, and, if so, what did sharing the news with their schools look like? I assume that your kids were out of school for some time. When did you/they decide that they were ready to go back? Have the schools been helpful? How so?

Both of my boys are in school, which has helped a lot with maintaining a rhythm. They had never been in daycare prior to us leaving our home. I had had many meetings with both schools about what transpired with their dad, the details of the restraining order, and the temporary custody arrangement.

I told the boys their father passed on a Thursday afternoon when they got home from school. I thought they would want to stay home on Friday and have a long weekend, but they woke up the next day and wanted to get ready for school. I simply followed their lead.

My eldest had met with a therapist a few times after we left our home, to help process the assault he witnessed, but, after some time, he didn’t want to return. We also went to an art therapist, but when she mentioned something about our old house, he told me he didn’t want to return. He’s not ready to address what happened that night. He has come a long way in being able to simply hear the word “daddy” and stories about his father, but, when I bring up what happened, he shuts me down very quickly. Everyone I have consulted with reminds me to reassure him that he doesn’t have to talk about anything he doesn’t feel comfortable talking about—but that I am here and ready to listen if ever he wants to talk to me about anything.

I also was advised to designate one trusted adult in each school to say the same to my boys. That if ever they needed to talk about anything, they could go to them.

I am currently working with a kids’ crisis counselor, who comes to visit our home every once in awhile to play a game with the boys and see how they are doing. My eldest doesn’t participate, but my little one is very engaged.

This has been the hardest part for me: allowing my eldest the space and time he needs to process what has happened. I am someone that addresses things head on, but he isn’t—and I need to honor that.

How do you balance tending to the grief of your children and your own? What are some of the things that have been helpful both to your processing and your children’s?

The most helpful thing I have done for myself (and for my boys) is giving myself (and them) time to grieve.

I am extremely lucky, in the sense, that I have support, and I don’t have to jump back into full-time work just yet. Many days have been spent sitting on my couch just breathing or sobbing. Stillness has been my lifeline. And when my boys come home and have big feelings to process, I can sit in it with them because I gave myself space to sit in my own feelings.

Since my situation involves both domestic violence and suicide, I really needed to honor my rage. I felt so much anger, fear, resentment, and confusion around what happened. I still do. When I honor my feelings, by giving them space to appear however they need to (yelling, tears, laughing, dancing, shaking), only then can I really sit with my kids in their grief.

What are some of the ways that you and your children honor your husband’s life?

I share so many stories with my boys about their dad, and I printed pictures of him and put them around the house. We made a small altar with plants and crystals next to my favorite picture of him by the beach. My eldest wants to hear about what his father loved. He loves hearing about their similarities. My little one likes talking to daddy in the sky, and we often kiss his frame. I want my kids to know that daddy did a bad thing, but he is not bad. That he struggled, but that he loved them so much. I very much keep a vision of how my boys are going to grow into young men and how their view of their father will help shape them as they grow. So I choose to lean into love and joy, so they will too.

My husband loved fishing, so the boys want to go fishing for Father’s Day and for his birthday in July. My husband’s ashes are in Nevada, and one day in the near future we will take them out on a boat in Laguna Beach and release him into the ocean where he wants to be.

For a parent who is dealing with suicide loss, what would you say to them? What advice would you give them? What resources would you share with them?

• Get immediate support from counselors and therapists. At one point, I was talking to four different people: a crisis counselor, a child psychologist, a therapist, and a counselor at a domestic violence shelter.

• Lean on family for support. I couldn’t have survived this without my brother and his wife. We lived with them for four months, and they were there for us in every single way that was needed.

• Take EVERYTHING that can be taken off your plate—OFF. This is not the time to be pushing yourself in any way.

• Food is really important, so asking anyone who is willing to drop off a meat sauce, soup, anything nourishing. Or ask a friend to organize a meal train for you.

• Get your bare feet on the earth. That can feel immediately grounding.

• Everyone is so different, so listen to what your body needs at any given moment is vital.

That night I found out, I remember feeling like the grief was so much bigger than my body, and that I couldn’t hold it.

It’s been almost eight months now, and I can hold it.

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Whew! I don’t think there’s a dry eye in the building,

Isabelle

. Thank you so much for sharing your story, your wisdom, and all of these amazing resources. I really can’t thank you enough for agreeing to participate in the Human/Parents interview series. I hope you and your boys continue to find healing, feel the sun, and do whatever it is that y’all need to do to breathe yourself home.

If you (or someone you know) is dealing with suicide grief, please consider sharing this post, commenting, or tapping that heart below. Tell us your story, offer any advice or wisdom gained through your own personal experience, and/or let us know which details of Isabelle’s story you found relatable, helpful, or hopeful.

Wherever you are in your journey, know that you deserve peace, hope, and love.