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 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.

When someone you love dies, ordinary objects become something else entirely. A hoodie. A playlist. A card in a drawer. This piece explores what grief does to the things they left behind, why holding on is not the same as being stuck, and how you will know when the time is right to let go.

There have been 579 Monday mornings since April 11, 2015. Maybe 50 I have actually looked forward to. All of them in the last year. For parents carrying something heavy and not sure where to go with it.

Over ten years, parents who have lost a child find their way to Chris Coulter. They carry the same four questions. When does the pain ease. The guilt. How to honour their child. And the one nobody asks out loud. This is his honest answer to all of them. In memory of Maddie Coulter. June 28, 2000 — April 11, 2015.

Someone asked me what my proudest accomplishment was. They expected a business win. I said: "Learning how to keep going after the day everything changed." After losing my daughter Maddie, the strength it takes to keep showing up, loving, and living — not just surviving — has become the thing I’m most proud of.