Eleven years after losing his 14-year-old daughter Maddie, Chris Coulter is confronting another painful part of grief: memories fading. From shoes at the front door to Adele in the shower, he shares the ordinary moments he refuses to let disappear and why Maddie’s life deserves to be remembered for far more than the way it ended.

I stopped marking my birthday for about fifteen years. Inside a five year stretch I lost a business, then a marriage, then my daughter, and somewhere in there the desire to live. What followed was about a decade of darkness I almost didn't get out of. This is what I understand now that I couldn't have understood then, including why the understanding arrives so much later than anyone tells you.

In the spring of 2018, three years after we lost Maddie, I picked a day and told nobody. Not my therapist, not my closest friends, not the people who had already carried me through the worst thing that can happen to a family. Nothing was missing from my life. I had every person I needed. What I didn't have was any willingness to be a burden to them, and that was the dangerous part.

When Chris Coulter lost his daughter Maddie in 2015, he spent the next nine years trying to get back to the man he was before. Nobody warned him about the second loss, the one that happens underneath. This is a piece about losing yourself after losing a child, about the two selves that argue in private, and about what finally stopped the arguing after eleven years.

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.

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.

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.