There is something I wish more people understood about grief, and that is how important it is to keep talking about the people we have lost. We need to keep speaking their names so they aren’t forgotten. I never want Nicole to be forgotten. I never want her to become just another statistic because she was so much more than that. She was my daughter. She was a mother, a sister, a granddaughter, a cousin, a niece and a friend. She was funny, stubborn, loving, artistic, caring and sometimes probably a little bit of a pain in the ass. 😂 She had a whole life, a whole personality and so many stories attached to her. I will speak Nicole’s name until my dying breath because as long as we are talking about her, remembering her and telling her stories, she is so much more than the way she died.

People apologize to me a LOT when they mention Nicole and I get tears in my eyes. I know they mean well, but honestly, please don’t apologize. Sometimes the love I have for my daughter is so big that it sneaks right out my eyes. Sometimes they are happy tears because somebody reminded me of a memory. Sometimes I don’t even know why I’m crying until I realize how much I miss her. But hearing someone say my daughter’s name out loud is never something I want people to be sorry for. I actually love hearing her name. It makes my heart feel full, and sometimes apparently my heart has to leak a little through my eyes. 😂

I also love hearing stories about her. Give me the good, the bad, the ugly, the funny and even the OH NO SHE DIDN’T stories. I want all of them. Those stories are pieces of my girl, and I don’t want those pieces to disappear just because she isn’t here anymore. Sometimes somebody will tell me something about Nicole that I didn’t know, and I love that. Sometimes they’ll remind me of something I’d forgotten. Sometimes we laugh about something she did and I can almost hear that big laugh of hers that filled the room and made everybody know Nicole was there.

For a long time, especially in the beginning, I would stop myself from talking about her because I didn’t want to make other people uncomfortable. I’d think, maybe I shouldn’t bring Nicole up. Maybe they don’t want to hear about her. Maybe they’re afraid I’ll cry. And then eventually I had one of those moments where I thought, wait a damn minute. She IS my daughter. This IS my home. And if I want or need to talk about my daughter, I damn well will. If that makes somebody uncomfortable, well… I’m sorry, not sorry. 😂 Nicole is my daughter, not yours, and I don’t need anyone’s permission to talk about her.

I’ve actually had people tell me I’m stuck because I still talk about Nicole. Trust me, you don’t want to hear what I really want to say to those people. 😂 But I will say this: if you haven’t been in my shoes, you have no idea what this feels like. You don’t know what it is like to lose your child. You don’t know what it is like to wake up every morning knowing your daughter isn’t going to walk through that door again. So please don’t decide for me when I should stop talking about her. I will talk about my daughter, Nicole, anywhere, anytime I want and anytime I need to. Enough said.

And there is a HUGE difference between talking about how someone died and talking about who they were. Nicole is NOT how she died. Yes, she died by suicide, and that is part of her story. I will never hide that because it is important to talk about suicide and it is important to talk about prevention. But that doesn’t mean her death gets to swallow up her entire life.

Think about it. Would you want people to remember you only for the worst day of your life? I sure as hell wouldn’t. So why would I want that for my daughter? Nicole was a mother. She was a daughter. She was a sister, granddaughter, cousin, niece and friend. She loved music. She loved people. She loved to make people laugh. She had struggles, but she was so much more than those struggles. She was human. She was loved. She lived.

I think saying someone’s name can make them feel a little more present in our lives. I know my sweet girl is always with me, but when somebody else says “Nicole,” it brings her a little closer. For just a moment, it feels like she’s part of the conversation again. And honestly, I want that. I don’t want everyone walking around afraid to mention her because they think it will make me sad.

Yes, sometimes it will make me sad.

That’s okay.

Being sad doesn’t mean I didn’t want to hear her name. It doesn’t mean you did something wrong. It means I love my daughter and I miss her.

And sometimes talking about someone we lost doesn’t make us cry at all. Sometimes it makes us laugh our asses off. 😂 I love those moments. I love remembering the ridiculous things Nicole did, the things that make me shake my head and think, “What the hell were you thinking?” because when I’m laughing about one of those stories, I can hear her laugh in my head too. Those moments are precious to me.

If you are grieving someone you love, I hope you never feel like you have to stop talking about them because everyone else has “moved on.” We all grieve differently, and there is no magic timeline where suddenly you wake up and say, “Well, that’s it, I’m finished grieving now.” I don’t see how you ever “move on” from losing a child. You learn how to live a life without them. That’s different.

And if you know someone who is grieving, you don’t need some perfect speech or a magic sentence that will make everything better. Just support them. Be there. Listen. Let them talk about their person. Ask questions. And if you aren’t sure what they need, listen long enough and they’ll probably tell you. It’s really not that damn hard.

I think one of the reasons people avoid saying someone’s name is because they’re scared they’ll make us sad. And yes, sometimes you might. But that’s okay. Sometimes the sadness is mixed with love, and sometimes hearing that person’s name is exactly what we needed that day. So don’t assume. Ask. Let the grieving person decide whether they want to talk.

That is especially important to me today because September 10 is World Suicide Prevention Day. Nicole took her own life, and I will not hide that. It’s part of her story, and talking about it is part of how I hope we can help other people. I don’t want another person suffering alone in silence thinking they have to do it all by themselves. I don’t want another life ended so suddenly that maybe could have been saved. And I don’t want another family to have to live with the devastation that comes afterward.

That’s why I’m making my donations tomorrow to Family Counselling Centre Sarnia-Lambton and the Sarnia-Lambton Suicide Prevention Committee. This is my third fundraiser since Nicole passed, and every year my goal is the same. I want to help at least one person. Just one. If something I do in Nicole’s memory helps one person reach out, helps one person feel heard, or helps one family never have to experience this kind of loss, then it was worth doing.

Because Nicole would listen.

She listened to people. It didn’t matter who they were or what they were going through. If somebody needed someone to talk to, she would listen. Maybe that’s something we could all learn from her.

Talk.

And if you’ve lost someone to suicide, please speak their name. Tell their story. Tell people who they were. Don’t let their story end with the word “suicide.” They were so much more than that.

And if you’re grieving someone, no matter how you lost them, please remember that grief has many faces. Don’t let somebody else tell you that you’re doing it wrong. They don’t know how to do this either. None of us were given instructions on how to lose somebody we love.

So talk about them.

Say their name.

Tell the stories.

Laugh at the memories.

Cry when you need to.

And if somebody gets uncomfortable because you’re still talking about the person you love, well, that’s their problem. 😂

I wish I could go back to those first few weeks after losing Nicole and tell myself what I know now. I would tell that version of me, “Do it. Talk about her. Speak her name all you want. You don’t need permission.”

Because as long as I keep talking about Nicole, she lived.

And that’s what I want people to remember.

Not just September 7.

Not just suicide.

Not just the loss.

Nicole lived.

She loved. She laughed. She made people smile. She had a story. She mattered.

And as long as I’m here, her name will be spoken. 💛

Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass… it’s about finding reasons to smile while the rain is still falling.

Stay kind.

Stay grateful.

YOU Matter!

Shelly 💜