Please Don't Remember My Daughter for the Way She Died
If you know Maddie Coulter because of how she died, you know the least important thing about her. She vetted my dating profiles. She ran a One Direction fan club and had 1,500 followers in a week. She was funny and loud and right more often than I was comfortable with. This is about what happens to a person's biography after they die, and a request from her father to remember the life instead.
Nobody Asks How the Brothers Are
When my daughter died, her brothers were 13 and 9. Their hockey teams made black armbands with both boys' numbers on them. There was no school in that neighbourhood where they walked in as two kids nobody had heard about. This is about surviving siblings, what a grieving parent misses while they're inside their own grief, and the one thing to say to a family that has other children at home.
I Thought I Had ADHD. It Was Grief.
After losing his daughter, Chris Coulter watched his psychological profile become obsolete overnight. The decisive, driven results were gone. He blamed adult ADHD, his medication, early dementia, even mould in his coffee, before his doctor named the real cause. This post covers what grief does to memory, concentration and motivation, and why forgetting a passcode does not mean you are losing your mind.
If I Could Speak to the Father I Was in 2015
Eleven years after losing his 14-year-old daughter Maddie, Chris Coulter writes a letter to the father he was in early 2015. What he would tell him about "fine," about quiet, about staying one question longer. What that father got right. What he couldn't have known, because nobody teaches parents what to look for. For every parent carrying guilt, and every parent with a teenager home tonight: grace.
I Don't Fear Talking About Maddie. I Fear People Forgetting Her
A father who lost his 14-year-old daughter to suicide explains what most people get wrong about grieving parents. Avoiding her name doesn't protect him. It erases her. This piece covers why bereaved parents want your stories, what to say to a grieving parent, what to avoid, and the one small act that matters more than any card: mention the person. Say the name. You will not remind us. We never forgot.
The hardest part of losing a child isn't what most people think.
The hardest part of losing a child is not the funeral. It is learning to live with the guilt, unanswered questions, and fear that your child will be forgotten. Chris Coulter shares what grief looks like ten years after losing his daughter Maddie and offers practical ways to support bereaved parents with compassion, presence, and remembrance.