When you are walking through life after losing a child, it can feel impossible to imagine ever breathing freely again, let alone rebuilding faith or finding hope. In my conversation with pareavor, Tracy Brinkmann, he shared openly about the darkest season of his life, the loss of his 18-month-old daughter, Krysta, and the long, winding journey that followed. His story reveals that even in the deepest heartbreak, healing and a rediscovery of God are possible.

Krysta’s Story: Love, Fragility, and an Unthinkable Goodbye

Tracy’s daughter, Krysta, entered the world early and fighting for her life. Born with a severely underdeveloped intestinal tract, she went through six major surgeries in the first three months of her life. Doctors worked tirelessly, using every medical option available at the time, including total parenteral nutrition and multiple procedures to give her a chance at survival. 

Despite living in constant discomfort, Krysta radiated joy. Tracy described how her bright blue-eyed smile could fill a room, even though her tiny body endured so much. That joy became a gift that he still treasures.

But after months of complications, including a devastating injury during a hospital mishap of being dropped, Krysta’s health collapsed. Faced with the agonizing choice between leaving her on machines or letting her go, Tracy made the unthinkable decision. He wrapped her in a blanket crocheted by her grandmother and rocked her in his arms as she slipped from this world into the next. 

That final moment became both a curse and a blessing; pain beyond words, yet a sacred honor to be with her as she passed.

When the Darkness Settles In

Even though Krysta died in the mid-1990s, Tracy’s grief was still close enough to bring tears as he shared. He emphasized something so many of us experience in life after losing a child: grief does not disappear. It changes, it softens, but it never fully leaves. 

In the early days, Tracy did what many grieving parents do. He pushed the emotions down so he could manage the responsibilities in front of him. But buried grief only grows heavier. One night, a scene in a movie shattered the wall he had so carefully built. He collapsed under the weight of a year and a half of unspoken pain. He learned the hard way what so many grieving parents understand: grief must find a way out, no matter how tightly we try to contain it.

The Anger We Don’t Want to Admit and Why It Matters

Anger, Tracy said, was one of the defining emotions of his early grief. Anger at the hospital. Anger at the circumstances. Anger even at God. And that anger reached a peak after a pastor told him Krysta would not go to heaven; a statement that wounded him deeply. 

But Tracy eventually learned that anger isn’t a failure. It’s human. And it can even be an important part of healing.

Anger becomes destructive when it festers, when we stuff it down or let it spill onto the people we love. He spoke openly about the importance of finding safe places to release anger, whether in a journal, in prayer, in nature, or with someone trustworthy who can hold space for the pain.

Tracy and I both feel it is important to recognize that holding anger doesn’t bring our child back. It only keeps peace, comfort and hope at arm’s length.

Faith After Child Loss: Discovering God All Over Again

Many parents feel their faith collapse after losing a child. Tracy was no exception. His understanding of God shifted dramatically, not only because of his grief but because of the painful and judgmental encounter he had at that church. 

But slowly, quietly, something changed.

He began speaking to Krysta first, sharing memories, fears and updates. And eventually those conversations led him back to God. He began approaching God “father to Father,” entrusting Krysta into His care with an intimacy he had never known before.

It wasn’t a return to religion.
It was the beginning of a relationship.

And for many parents, that becomes one of the surprising markers of life after losing a child. Faith becomes more personal, less structured, and somehow more real.

Choosing Healing and Meaning, Even When It Seems Impossible

After Krysta died, Tracy feared he might slip back into his old addictions. Instead, he made a conscious choice that he would honor his daughter by living differently. He threw himself into personal development, eventually becoming a coach and mentor. He discovered that helping others became a bridge back to his own healing. 

This is a truth that many of us see in our own journeys of life after losing a child. Small acts of kindness, connection, or service can create space for meaning and purpose to slowly return.

Helping others does not erase our pain.
But it can gently lead us toward a life worth living again.

When Grief and Joy Begin to Coexist

Do the tears ever stop? No.
Do the waves become quieter? Yes.

Tracy shared how memories that once crushed him eventually became memories that warmed him. He began seeing them through Krysta’s eyes – the joy she felt when he took her outside or played with her. This reframing transformed the sting of memories into something gentler. 

Over time, grief and joy learned to share space. And in many ways, this is the heart of life after losing a child. It is not the absence of pain, but the presence of love that remains.

What Tracy Wants Every Grieving Parent to Know

At the end of our conversation, I asked Tracy what he would say to a pareavor who feels they will never reach a place of hope. His words were simple and true:

• It will always hurt, but the pain changes.
• Give yourself permission to feel your grief.
• Look for the small things that still bring joy.
• Share your child’s story because it keeps their life shining.
• Hold on. Healing does come, little by little.

And maybe most importantly:
You are not expected to “get over” this.
You are learning how to carry it.

That is courage.
That is love.
That is hope.

You Are Not Alone

If you are in those early days of darkness, I want you to know there is a way forward, not in spite of your child’s death, but because of their life. You can live a life of meaning and purpose again. 

And I would love to hear from you:
What is one small thing you’ve done to brighten someone else’s day that also brightened your own? You can let me know below. You do not walk this road alone. Let’s keep going forward together. 

NOTE: This was partially taken from the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast episode 324. Click here to listen to the full discussion, or look for the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast on your favorite listening app.

Connect with Tracy Brinkmann: Website | Podcast

Join the community who are making sure this podcast continues, giving hope to others the way you have received hope. Choose your level here on Patreon.

Find out more and get your copy of Hope for the Future: An Advent Journey for Bereaved Parents here.

Share with Laura and others a way you brightened your own day a bit by brightening someone else’s here on the GPS Hope website under the show notes. (Or on the public or private GPS Hope page under the podcast episode.)

Subscribe to the GPS Hope YouTube channel to join Laura during advent.

If you would like gentle support as you navigate life after child loss, I’ve created a free guide to walk with you. Sign below and get your copy.

AWARD WINNING AUTHOR, LAURA DIEHL, has written several impactful books that provide comfort and guidance to those navigating the painful journey of child loss, after the death of her own daughter in 2011. Her most acclaimed work, When Tragedy Strikes: Rebuilding Your Life with Hope and Healing After the Death of Your Child, has received multiple accolades, including the 2017 Gold Medal Centauri Christian Book Award for Non-Fiction and a Silver Medal in the 2018 Illumination Awards. Several of her other books have won awards as well.

In addition to her writing, Laura is an ordained minister and has an extensive background in international children’s ministry. She is a sought-after speaker and singer at grief conferences and churches, known for her compassionate approach and deep understanding of the grieving process, especially the unique loss of a child. Through her weekly award-winning podcast, her writings, and other resources provided by GPS Hope, Laura and her husband, Dave, continue to provide hope and healing to thousands of parents worldwide, helping them find light in the midst of profound loss and darkness.

For more information about Laura’s award-winning books go to gpshope.org/books.
To find out more about Laura Diehl and the ministry of Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope) visit gpshope.org.

The link to Hope for the Future is an affiliate link, allowing part of the purchase price to go to GPS Hope. 

Some stories are so heavy and so sacred that they stay with you long after the conversation ends. This is one of those stories. 

In honor of National Survivors of Suicide Loss Day (November 22), I talked with a mom who has walked an unthinkably painful road and yet continues to cling to God with a steady, quiet faith.

Carol Krawiec is a remarkable woman who has not lost one child… but three sons. Her youngest son, Ben, died by suicide. And yet through so much devastation, she continues to walk a path of faith, healing, and hope. 

This is truly a message about being held through the dark and trusting God after a child’s suicide, even when your heart feels shattered beyond repair.

Three Sons in Heaven: Dan, Tim, and Ben

Carol began by sharing the stories of her precious boys.

Daniel, her oldest, died in 2012 after eight long years battling depression and addiction brought on by a prescription given after back surgery. Even in the struggle, he was gentle, kind and tender-hearted. God gave their family a beautiful nine months of clarity before he relapsed one final time.

Timothy, her youngest, battled alcohol addiction from a young age, much of it connected to the chaos of mental illness in their home. He came to know Jesus in rehab and experienced wonderful periods of sobriety. But a combination of unresolved trauma, grief over losing his big brother, and the exhausting fight of addiction led to heart failure, ending his life in 2019.

And then there was Ben, their most artistic, sensitive, creative and deeply empathetic son. He was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 12 and spent his life cycling through treatments, hospitalizations, and painful swings between mania and depression. He loved his children fiercely, and when he was stable, he was an incredible father, caregiver, and friend. But when darkness overtook him, it was devastating.

After losing both of his brothers, and with the mental health system failing him during a critical crisis, Ben ended his life. The illness simply became too heavy to carry.

This is the reality many parents face; mental illness is an illness, just like cancer or heart disease. And sometimes it becomes the illness that takes our children from us.

Guilt, Shame, and All the Questions That Follow Suicide Loss

One of the hardest parts of suicide loss is the crushing guilt.
What could I have done differently?
Why wasn’t my love enough?
Why didn’t God step in?

Carol has wrestled with all of it.

She shared how she cried by a creek for months and poured out her questions to God, sometimes yelling, sometimes whispering, always desperate for answers.

But she also learned that the enemy uses shame and guilt like daggers meant to keep us trapped in darkness. She said something powerful:

“You have to combat the lies of the enemy with the truth of Scripture.”

Romans 8 became her anchor, especially the assurance that nothing can separate us from God’s love. Not addiction. Not mental illness. Not wandering away. And not even suicide.

This is at the heart of Held Through the Dark: Trusting God after a Child’s Suicide. We need the continual returning to God’s promises, even when our hearts don’t feel them yet. 

Seeing Through the Lens of Eternity

One thing Carol said is something I have also learned throughout the years. 

“I don’t need to know all the answers to trust God.”

As grieving parents, we often struggle with scriptures that used to bring comfort. They almost feel like they mock us after the death of our child. “All things work together for good?” How can this possibly be good?

We talked about how limited our human perspective is when we’re in deep grief. We only see this life through a dark, cloudy lens, while God sees through the lens of eternity. 

Carol made the statement, “I’d want my sons back in a moment, but not the way they were. Their pain was so deep.” And that’s something many of us can relate to: we love our children fiercely, but we also know the suffering they carried.

When we are grieving, it often feels impossible to imagine anything beyond the pain we’re living in right now. But God sees what we cannot. He sees the fullness of our children’s stories. He sees the healing, the wholeness, and the glory they now experience in His presence.

None of this takes away our sorrow. But it does give us a place to anchor our hope. And this is part of what it means to be held through the dark and trusting God after a child’s suicide, by acknowledging that even though we can’t see the full picture yet, God can.

The Trauma of Repeated Loss

Losing one child is unthinkable. Losing two is unbearable. Losing three? Most of us can’t fathom it.

Yet Carol shared that even through wave after wave of loss, she knew she had a choice.
Not an easy one.
Not a one-time decision.
But a daily choice:

“I ran to God, not away from Him, because He had been faithful to me all my life. Where else would I go?”

Carol knows the fear of losing another child. She lived under the weight of it for years. But she also reminds us that God doesn’t give us grace for what might happen. He gives grace for what we are facing right now.

And that He has been faithful every single time.

Breaking the Myths Around Suicide and Mental Illness

There is still so much stigma and misunderstanding around suicide and mental illness, especially in church settings. Carol has heard comments blaming parents for their child’s death. She has met people who think mental illness is simply a lack of faith. Those statements are not biblical. They are not true. And they heap more pain onto hearts that are already broken.

The truth is: 

The brain is an organ.
Organs can get sick.
And sometimes those illnesses are fatal.

Just as cancer claims lives, so can mental illness.
Just as a heart can fail, so can a mind overwhelmed by darkness.

Carol said she has no difficulty honoring her son who died by suicide because it was the illness, not a lack of love or faith, that took him.

This is part of why we need safe spaces, community, and honest conversations. We need places where parents can say their child’s name without shame, where they can talk about suicide loss without judgment.

Telling Our Stories Honors Our Children and Honors God

Carol now leads Zoom groups for moms navigating suicide loss, overdose, and mental illness. She has stepped into a calling that she never wanted—but one she now embraces with tenderness and courage.

She said something beautiful:

“Telling my story honors my boys, and it honors God.”

She referenced Isaiah 54:4 as her “life verse” now:
“The Sovereign Lord has given me his words of wisdom, so that I know how to comfort the weary.”

Sharing our children with others keeps their light alive.
It breaks shame.
It builds connection.
It brings healing.

And for those who are still very early on this path, hearing another parent’s story can make the difference between drowning in darkness and beginning to breathe again.

This, too, is part of being held through the dark: trusting God after a child’s suicide, by allowing God to turn our mourning into comfort for others.

Worship, Presence, and the Hope of Heaven

Toward the end of our conversation, Carol shared how she often imagines her sons worshiping Jesus, and how she pictures worshiping alongside them. 

“We’re still their moms,” she said. “Our relationship is different, but it’s not gone. They are in our future.”

This moved me deeply because I understand it so well. I also picture myself worshiping Jesus next to my daughter, Becca. And I often cry during worship, not from sadness, but because of God’s faithfulness to me. I can honestly say that I am more happy for Becca than I am sad for myself most of the time. Not always, but most of the time.

Worship reminds us that our children are safe.
Whole.
Joyful.
And waiting for us.

Even in this grief, we are held through the dark: trusting God after a child’s suicide by remembering we will see our children again.

The Weaving: A Poem of Perspective

As we closed the conversation, I shared a poem that beautifully reflects this eternal viewpoint, called The Weaving, made famous by Corrie Ten Boom.

It reminds us that the dark threads are just as necessary as the bright ones in God’s design. We only see the underside of the tapestry. But one day, God will show us the full picture of the upper side. 

And on that day, the pain will make sense in a way it never could here.

You Are Not Alone in This Darkness

If you are reading this because your child died by suicide, please hear this with your whole heart:

You are not alone.
Your child’s life matters.
Their story deserves to be told.
And you deserve to be surrounded with compassion, not shame.

God has not abandoned you.
He is holding you, even if you don’t feel it.

And God is with you in the darkest places, even when you cannot feel Him. You truly are being held through the dark. You can still trust God after a child’s suicide, step by step, breath by breath.

You do not have to walk through this darkness alone. There is hope, there is community, and there is a God who still carries you.

If you want to honor your child who died by suicide, I would love for you to visit our GPS Hope Facebook page (public or private) and share a photo or their name. You never have to hide your child’s story. They are loved, remembered, and precious.

And so are you.

NOTE: This was partially taken from the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast episode 323. Click here to listen to the full discussion, or look for the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast on your favorite listening app.

Connect with Carol: ckrawiec806@yahoo.com 

Find out more and get your copy of Hope for the Future: An Advent Journey for Bereaved Parents here.

Subscribe to the GPS Hope YouTube channel to join Laura during advent.

If you would like gentle support as you navigate life after child loss, I’ve created a free guide to walk with you. Sign below and get your copy.

AWARD WINNING AUTHOR, LAURA DIEHL, has written several impactful books that provide comfort and guidance to those navigating the painful journey of child loss, after the death of her own daughter in 2011. Her most acclaimed work, When Tragedy Strikes: Rebuilding Your Life with Hope and Healing After the Death of Your Child, has received multiple accolades, including the 2017 Gold Medal Centauri Christian Book Award for Non-Fiction and a Silver Medal in the 2018 Illumination Awards. Several of her other books have won awards as well.

In addition to her writing, Laura is an ordained minister and has an extensive background in international children’s ministry. She is a sought-after speaker and singer at grief conferences and churches, known for her compassionate approach and deep understanding of the grieving process, especially the unique loss of a child. Through her weekly award-winning podcast, her writings, and other resources provided by GPS Hope, Laura and her husband, Dave, continue to provide hope and healing to thousands of parents worldwide, helping them find light in the midst of profound loss and darkness.

For more information about Laura’s award-winning books go to gpshope.org/books.
To find out more about Laura Diehl and the ministry of Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope) visit gpshope.org.

The link to Hope for the Future is an affiliate link, allowing part of the purchase price to go to GPS Hope. 

Navigating the holidays after child loss can be one of the hardest times of the year for a grieving parent. Everywhere we turn, people are celebrating, decorating, and gathering, while we’re just trying to breathe through the ache of our child not being here. 

This isn’t about pretending we’re okay. It’s about learning how to hold on to both grief and our faith. It isn’t about forcing ourselves to “look on the bright side.” 

It is about learning how gratitude and grief can coexist, not as enemies, but as companions on this painful road that we never asked to walk.

Gratitude Doesn’t Mean You’re Over It

The pain of losing a child doesn’t go away, even as we keep moving forward in life. Some days, it feels like a quiet heaviness that we carry. Other times, it knocks us flat and takes our breath away. Eventually, the pain becomes a deep undercurrent of who we are. It’s always there, even when others can’t see it. 

Some people think that if we’re thankful for anything, it means we are over it. But that isn’t true. Gratitude does not invalidate pain. They can live together in the same heart. Jesus Himself modeled this. He wept at the tomb of Lazarus, even though He knew resurrection was coming. Grief and hope coexisted in Him, and they can coexist in us too. 

Having gratitude doesn’t mean we’re okay with our child’s death. It simply means we’re choosing to notice that God’s goodness hasn’t left us, even in the darkness.

A Bittersweet Thanksgiving with Becca

Our daughter, Becca, had the gift of hospitality. She loved cooking, preparing, and making everyone feel special. That was how she showed love. 

During what we knew could be her last Thanksgiving with us, she was in a wheelchair and connected to a VAD (a mechanical pump that ran the left side of her heart) while she waited for a chance to be on the transplant list. That year, she wanted so badly to host Thanksgiving dinner. I had always done it at our house, but we decided to let her take the lead. 

Her husband and I got behind her, helping her do what she could, even carrying her up and down the basement stairs, since that was the only space big enough for everyone to gather. That day was bittersweet. It broke my heart to see how much she wanted to do but couldn’t. Yet it was so precious to see her beaming at the table, surrounded by family.

For a long time after she died, that Thanksgiving was a painful memory. It was the last time we were all together. But God gently changed how I saw it. Now, it’s one of my most treasured memories because we honored her gift of hospitality. We let her love us in the way she still could, and she poured her heart into it. 

There was grief on that day, absolutely. But there was also deep gratitude. And both were real. Both were sacred.

Gratitude After Child Loss Looks Different

Gratitude doesn’t look the same as it once did for us. But eventually, as we learn to navigate the holidays after child loss, it can be even more meaningful. It might look like:

• Being thankful for one supportive friend who checks in.
• Noticing a sunrise on a hard morning.
• A moment of peace that surprises you.
• A reminder that your child is still part of your story.

Sometimes gratitude is just being thankful that you had the strength to go get a haircut. And that’s enough.

Both/And — Not Either/Or

Our culture tells us we have to pick one: 

Either you’re grieving or you’re grateful. 

Either you’re hurting or you’re healing. 

But the truth is: we can be both. 

I can be heartbroken and still hold gratitude. 

I can miss my child desperately and still see God’s fingerprints on my day.

I can long for heaven and still find reasons to live here. 

I can lean on God while I fall apart. 

Gratitude doesn’t erase grief, but it can soften it. And grief doesn’t push gratitude away, but it can deepen it. Because when everything has been shattered, especially as we navigate the holidays after child loss, even the smallest gifts become sacred.

Emmanuel: God With Us in Our Pain

It’s not just Thanksgiving that hurts. The entire holiday season can be overwhelming and filled with questions, “whys,” and the painful reminder that our child isn’t here for the lights, the laughter, or the joy. 

About five years after Becca died, the name Emmanuel, God with us, hit my spirit like an explosion. I cried out, “Lord, I want You to be with me every day of this next month. I need to feel You. I need Your peace in a tangible way.” At that moment, I was reminded of the advent wreath that we used when our kids were growing up, reading a special devotion and lighting a candle each week leading up to Christmas.

So, I decided to do my own advent time with the Lord, focusing each night on Emmanuel, God with us, even within my grief. I began writing reflections for each evening and sharing them live on Facebook with anyone who wanted to join me in navigating the holidays after child loss. 

It helped keep me from spiraling into darkness and reminded me that Christmas really isn’t about gifts or parties. It’s about the hope Jesus brought when He was born here on this earth. He came as a baby to bring peace, love, and eternal life. What He did for us assures us that this separation is not forever.

A Gentle Reminder for Navigating the Holidays After Child Loss

No matter what the holiday is, our hearts ache more deeply when our child’s chair is empty. If that’s how you feel this season, please know you’re not alone. Give yourself permission to do the holidays differently this year. You don’t have to pretend to be okay, and you don’t have to force joy that isn’t there. 

Sometimes honoring your child looks like a quiet candlelight moment instead of a big celebration, and that’s okay. Even in the heaviness, may you notice gentle moments of grace: a memory that brings a smile, a word that reminds you of hope, and the peace that comes from knowing God is holding both you and your child close to His heart.

NOTE: This was partially taken from the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast episode 322. Click here to listen to the full discussion, or look for the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast on your favorite listening app.

Join the community that’s helping bring hope to grieving parents, just as you’ve received. Choose your level here on Patreon and make a difference today.

If you would like gentle support as you navigate life after child loss, I’ve created a free guide to walk with you. Sign below and get your copy.

AWARD WINNING AUTHOR, LAURA DIEHL, has written several impactful books that provide comfort and guidance to those navigating the painful journey of child loss, after the death of her own daughter in 2011. Her most acclaimed work, When Tragedy Strikes: Rebuilding Your Life with Hope and Healing After the Death of Your Child, has received multiple accolades, including the 2017 Gold Medal Centauri Christian Book Award for Non-Fiction and a Silver Medal in the 2018 Illumination Awards. Several of her other books have won awards as well.

In addition to her writing, Laura is an ordained minister and has an extensive background in international children’s ministry. She is a sought-after speaker and singer at grief conferences and churches, known for her compassionate approach and deep understanding of the grieving process, especially the unique loss of a child. Through her weekly award-winning podcast, her writings, and other resources provided by GPS Hope, Laura and her husband, Dave, continue to provide hope and healing to thousands of parents worldwide, helping them find light in the midst of profound loss and darkness.

For more information about Laura’s award-winning books go to gpshope.org/books.
To find out more about Laura Diehl and the ministry of Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope) visit gpshope.org.

The link to Hope for the Future is an affiliate link, allowing part of the purchase price to go to GPS Hope.