By Lisa Sugarman
National Grief Awareness Day, observed annually on August 30th, aims to recognize the time it takes to heal from loss and to raise awareness about the different forms of grief. This day encourages people to support those who are grieving and to share resources and information that can help them navigate their pain. It also serves as a reminder that grief is a natural process, varying from person to person, and that itโs okay to seek help or talk about your feelings. Today is an opportunity to offer understanding and compassion for those experiencing loss in their journey toward healing.
The first time my dad Jim died, it was August 1, 1978.
It was a Monday night and heโd tucked me into bed, said he loved me, kissed my mom, and went downstairs to watch his Red Sox play a late-evening summer game. By Tuesday morning, he was gone, taken by a heart attack in his sleep. And it left me lost and broken and confronted with the impossible reality that the person who I felt most secure with in the world was gone.
I was barely ten years old when my dad died that first time and I was the textbook definition of a daddyโs girl, so it blew my world to pieces.
Whether it was peak bagging together in the White Mountains or handing him tools while he changed the oil in his โ77 Datsun 280Z, I grabbed every opportunity to be by my dadโs side.
He was an outdoorsman, always wanting to be in nature or driving fast around a track in his amateur race car or testing his bodyโs limits on the Appalachian Trail. And he gifted his passion for those things to me. So, as youโd expect, there hasnโt been a single day since he left us in the summer of โ78 when I havenโt felt the pain of that loss deep in my bones.
That was how his first death changed my life.
The second time I lost my dad I was 45 and married with two daughters of my own. I learned, very much by accident, that heโd actually died by suicide back in the 70s. The heart attack was just a story my mother invented in that moment to spare me the pain of knowing that my father had chosen to leave us. In her mind, it was devastating enough for me that he was gone; she just couldnโt bear to pour more kerosene on an already raging fire. And I think she made the right call. Because this new and ugly narrative required a completely different kind of grieving, the kind a ten-year-old just canโt understand.
The thing about grief isโespecially the grief thatโs attached to suicideโitโs deceptive and irreverent and it shows up both when we expect it to and, most often, when we donโt. Thatโs why, in the decades since my dad left us, Iโve searched endlessly for ways to cope with all of the emotions that are attached to grief. And that search has led me to discover a couple of powerful ways to navigate suicide loss.
Probably the most important way Iโve learned to keep moving forward is by gifting myself permission to be exactly where I am at any given moment. If Iโm angry, I let myself be angry. If Iโm sad, I let the tears flow. If Iโm feeling hopeless, I let myself sit in that for a while until Iโm not anymore. Because if we try to outrun our emotions, theyโll always catch us no matter how sly we think we are. And when we run toward them instead of running away, we retain the power.
Iโve spent the better part of my life accompanied by griefโlosing a shockingly large number of family members and friendsโand itโs given me a pretty unique perspective on loss. And because of that, Iโve learned a few valuable lessons about navigating that unique journey:
Lesson #1:
We need to embrace the suck and allow ourselves to sit in all the feels. Whenever they come. Because even though those intense feelings are sometimes more than we can bear, grief does change over time.
Lesson #2:
Sharing our story of loss is a gift to us and to the person weโve lost. Thatโs why, if you feel you can, you should share your person with the world. Tell your story. Because being vulnerable and sharing our personal experience(s) is like sending up a flare that helps us find our community and helps our community find us.
Lesson #3:
Grief is for life, we just experience it in different ways and at different levels along the way.

So, whether youโre experiencing a new loss or, like me, youโve been grieving someoneโs death for most of your life, accepting that grief is cyclical is just a core tenant of the whole grieving process. We need to make space for the ebb and flow of it when it comes, without trying to avoid or dismiss it.
Thatโs how we take back some of the control weโve lost. And thatโs how we learn to thrive again. One small step at a time.