“The holidays would come and the past would hit Ives like a chill wind,” writes Oscar Hijuelos in Mr. Ives’ Christmas. “Memories of his son plaguing him, there came many a day, around Christmas, when Ives would plaintively wait for a sign that his son, who’d deserved so much more than what he had been given, was somewhere safe and beloved by God.”
In Hijuelos’ novel, Ives’ son, Robert, was six months away from entering a Roman Catholic seminary to study for the priesthood when, talking with a friend on a New York City street a few days before Christmas in 1967, he was randomly and fatally shot by a passerby. “He was seventeen at the time of his death, and not an hour passed when Ives did not calculate his son’s age were he still alive” (New York: HarperCollins, 1995, 10).
I also began making that age calculation after my teenage daughter Mary died by suicide in 1995–her death no less inexplicable than the one portrayed in Mr. Ives’ Christmas. And like Mr. Ives, I also eventually came to see that my daughter had “deserved so much more than what [s]he had been given . . .”
My observation might seem to invite an “of course she did” response, but it took more than a decade for me to be able to make it. “Deserved so much more than what [s]he had been given” had to wait for shock to wear off and anger to dissipate. It had to wait for “whys” to fade and for “what ifs” to run their agonizing course.
“Deserved so much more than what [s]he had been given” followed only after a decade of writing My Daughter, Her Suicide, and God: A Memoir of Hope. Beginning in 2001 as a kind of self-therapy (I needed all available help), the writing became a way of bringing Mary back to life in a good way and working out where God was throughout her suicide and my grief. It finally became a way of honoring my daughter who deserved so much more than what she’d been given.
However, unlike Mr. Ives, I did not need a sign to believe that Mary was somewhere safe and beloved by God.
My Daughter, Her Suicide, and God: A Memoir of Hope will soon be available on Amazon.
Mary's Shortcut: About Suicide Bereavement 
Blessed Advent! I lost my younger brother (19 years old) to suicide last April. He was my only sibling. It’s good to read another Catholic’s experiences in grieving. Reading your blog helps me a lot. At least I know that I can still live a good meaningful life. Please pray for us. This is going to be a really tough Christmas. I’ll pray for you too! God Bless!
Dear Mary ( I hope I have your name right),
I’m sorry to hear the news of your brother’s tragic death. Right now, I suspect you and your entire family are still in shock, and perhaps that will make Christmas very unusual for you. The thing that helped me most my first Christmas without Mary was just not expecting too much of myself or anyone else. We kept things very quiet that year and for several Christmases after that. Please know that there is a world of good people going through exactly the pain of loss and confusion that you’re experiencing right now. We need to support each other.
So you can count on my prayers for your brother and your entire family.
Blessings of peace,
Marjorie