Remembering how my dad lived, not how he died
By Miri McDonald, American Family Insurance Lead Communications Specialist
**Content warning: This story discusses suicide and mental health issues. The subject may be sensitive for some readers.**
My dad, Henry Sher, lived life large. He wasn’t afraid to look ridiculous if he could make people laugh and feel happy. He also died by suicide when he was 66 years old.
It’s taken me a while to reconcile the way he died with the way he lived.
A few memories jump out to help me understand — and share — the person he was. Remember those Party Animal t-shirts that were popular in the 80s? My dad had one and wore it unironically. He lived life like that was his mantra.
At every party, he was the last guy on the dance floor.
He sang loudly in the car even though he didn’t have a great voice.
He wrote restaurant, theater and concert reviews for a local magazine because he loved fine dining, plays and music.
As a comedy nerd, he introduced me to standup. His friends would ask, “Henry, you got any new jokes?” Smiling, he would pull out a card from his wallet and deliver jokes with practiced timing.
He emceed an ice cream-eating contest outside Sweet Tooth Heaven, the store he owned and ran for several years, and where people lined up to buy ice cream, candy, nuts and chocolates.
You get the picture.
So, when his behavior changed later in his life, it threw my family for a loop.
This cannot be happening
He called me one week back in 2006, whispering that he thought his car, phone and TV were bugged and someone was trying to take over his business. At first, I thought he was joking.
He wasn’t. He tried to end his life that weekend. I felt like I was living in a bad, made-for-TV Lifetime movie.
After they revived him, he was prescribed medicine and assigned a therapist. My dad was from a generation where the default setting was to be suspicious of doctors. Take medicine? Go to therapy? Now, that’s funny! (Thankfully, we’re making progress as a society in destigmatizing therapy and medication.)
There was another suicide attempt a few months later. This meant more therapy and medication. However, it turns out it’s not easy to force a grown man to take medicine or go to therapy. By some miracle, despite his resistance to treatment, he seemed to be back to his old, upbeat self for several years. Then, Hurricane Sandy hit the East Coast in late October 2012, flooding and damaging the building my parents owned and managed. He fell into a deep depression and barely left the house. When I talked to him his affect was flat.
My mom convinced herself it was temporary. I was pretty sure it wasn’t. He ended his life in September 2013.
Anger, a common reaction to grief
My first reaction was anger. It didn’t feel right but research shows that it’s a normal stage of grief.
I was angry at my dad. How could he not want to stick around to see his grandsons grow up? What about my mom, the love of his life? Why would he do this to her? And why leave me, his only child?
I started to distance myself from my traits that were clearly his.
Another reaction was to seize the moment. I took every opportunity to go out and have fun. In hindsight, it may have been a way to distract myself and numb the pain.
Remembering my dad’s life
After a while, waves of sadness would hit me while doing yoga, driving or walking my dog. At first, I would try to quickly move past it. Over time, I grew to enjoy these moments because they allowed me to remember my dad for who he was and what he loved.
Everyone grieves differently and there is no right way to do it. I also think that when a loved one dies by suicide the grief may be more complicated.
I finally got to a place where I didn’t want to be mad about how my dad’s life ended. That was such a small part of his story.
Now, when something reminds me of him, I share those stories and proudly bring out my inner party animal. I dance, sing, laugh and live life large.
Breaking down stigmas and encouraging others to get help
Why am I sharing this difficult and upsetting life experience publicly?
For the 10 years since my dad died, I’ve considered sharing my story. But I never got to a “why” that felt strong enough, so I set it aside.
Recently, I attended a meeting where people shared personal, difficult life experiences they had or were having. I saw how these stories helped us understand each other on a different level. It also helped them talk about it. And help others feel less alone who may be in a similar situation.
So, I share this to hopefully play a small part in breaking down stigmas associated with mental health issues and suicide and encourage people to seek support for themselves or loved ones.
Mental health resources
Anyone could be struggling with suicide. The 988 Lifeline is a national network of local crisis centers that provides free and confidential emotional support to people in suicidal crisis or emotional distress 24 hours a day, 7 days a week in the United States.
- 988 — Suicide and Crisis Lifeline — 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — Call. Text. Chat. (988lifeline.org)
Read more stories of hope and recovery here.
