The Nain group meets once a month in Romena, Tuscany, to walk a path of transformation. Parents who wish to can plant an almond tree in memory of their child. For me, the most important thing has been meeting other parents who lost their children to suicide as I did, and realizing that I am not so different from those who have not known this particular pain—understanding that there is nothing wrong with us.
At my first meeting, two mothers welcomed me. They had lost their children longer ago than I had, and through their stories I glimpsed a glimmer of hope. I could not imagine my life continuing without him. Though we cannot find answers to such an extreme act, meeting other parents has shown me that it is possible to live again. I felt protected and truly understood, without having to explain myself.
Before coming to Romena, I felt completely alone. My therapist was the only person I could talk to about my son's death. In therapy I realized how essential it is to speak about it: doing so lets me feel that he is still alive. The day he died could have been the end of everything if I had closed myself off and focused only on the overwhelming despair I felt.
Walking with the Nain group, I can speak about the pain, the guilt, what my son did—details I cannot share with anyone else, not even my family, because I see that even saying his name troubles them.
It may seem impossible, but these groups help lighten our grief. We absorb each other's pain and release our own. Among ourselves we feel like brothers and sisters, bound by the same fate. Leaving these meetings is like storing up energy, like spending time with him. For me, it is truly necessary to participate. Today I do not let grief overtake me. I nourish it with hope, transforming my son's death into something meaningful. I owe all of this to therapy and to finding the courage to share my pain on this path I have begun at Romena—a path that will continue forever.
