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​Losing my 33-year-old son, Kevin, has left me facing the profound challenge of learning how to live without my only son. Although the void in my heart is deep, I am determined to find strength and support my daughter and family. I am grateful for their love and support, which have been vital on this journey. Moving forward has become a path filled with therapy, connections with friends and family, patience, love, and faith, shining light on me through grief and helping me engage with life once again.

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I am learning and growing through my grief to manage the challenges and struggles I face in this new dichotomy of death and living. Yes, I feel all the horrendous and inexplicable emotions piercing my heart, mind, and body—emotions I never imagined I would have to endure or knew existed. The fathomless and complex trauma of grief is arduous and exhausting.

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On a sunny, mild winter day in New York, February 28, 2020, as the most traumatic day in my life—a day I wish I could erase from my memory forever. It was as if I had been suddenly thrust into a merciless wilderness, where every step forward felt treacherous, and every breath was a reminder of my loss. This horrific event left me with no choice but to grapple with the shadows of sorrow and ultimately integrate this devastating loss of my son into the fabric of my life.

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Please meet me, Chano Itwaru: mother, wife, grandmother, friend, teacher, bereaved mom turned grief educator, and empathetic/courageous griever. By sharing my story, I aim to raise awareness that we can allow ourselves to believe in hope and meaning in the aftermath of loss, especially in cases of suicide loss.