Almost a month has passed...

Last night I attended a "survivors of suicide" group at Dane County Mental Health. Heading there, I felt fairly solid... I was praying, processing, and, I thought, proceeding.

When I arrived I was warmly greeted and entered a room that soon filled up with about 15 people. As the group did a "check in" I felt that now-familiar deep feeling of grief starting to build up again.

By the time it was my turn I could hardly speak. "It's been nearly a month now..." was all I could gasp. My grief was still raw -- like a deep wound within me.

But thankfully I was in familiar territory. Everyone around me knew the pain I was feeling... some members of the group had been coming here for years... often after a child or grandchild had taken their life. Many of them were still experiencing the raw pain of a family suicide.

I feel like a person who has not only been shot, but been "machined gunned!" It has been a series of emotional wounds from my grandaughter Allison's death in a traffic accident three years ago, to Sabine's cancer diagnosis, chemotherapy and the stem cell transplant, my daughter Yumi's deployment to Afghanistan, Sabine's cancer flaring up earlier this summer and now Matt's suicide... How much more, Lord?  I am remembering your promise of not sending me more than I can bear...  I hold you to it, God!!

I don't want to feel like another Job (well, I don't because he seemed never to get angry at what was happening to him) but Job didn't have a suicide on top of everything else!  Maybe that would have made him angry!

My sense is that these events are going to take me a long time to recover. And, as I mentioned to Sabine this morning during our walk, I will not rule out one-on-one counselling on top of all the other prayer and support I feel from friends and family.  Anything to get through this.

Sabine tells me she thinks she is better able to handle this because she knows she has little time left and cannot afford to spend it in grief or anger.  Matt had a choice.  It was not an accident and his choice, no matter how we see it, has now brought peace to a most troubled life.

So, I try and practice my preaching: to pray, process, and proceed. But it is easier said than done. It is so easy to get stuck in anger (or as one person said last night, it's not anger, but RAGE!) and, yes, blame.  I can easily shift into the blame-game.  There is plenty of blame to go around but all it will do is drag me down into that pit.  The old saying is that you should never wrestle with a pig because you both get dirty yet the pig loves it!  Still blame has a sweet taste to it...

All of us who are struggling with a family suicide are surrounded and buffeted by all these feelings -- anger, rage, blame, sorrow, sadness, guilt, "what ifs," and deep, gnawing grief. We name it. We talk about it. Through this we are supported and loved. We lick our wounds... we go forward... even if ever so slowly.

The Healing Journey

A couple of "learnings"...

Grief is a tiring process. I find myself suddenly getting tired. After supervising Sabine's dialysis in the morning, I find that I look forward to a nap just to get through the day. Sleep at night is often a challenge. As grief has a rainbow of 24 hour emotions ranging from deep sadness to some nasty anger. Prayer and my wife, Sabine, are my sustenance. However, I have decided to join a "suicide survivors" group next week in Madison to help me negotiate this "journey."

I also find help in going through the liturgy we used on October 9th. Thankfully, we have about 300 photos from that wonderful event and putting them into a web album "movie" on YouTube has also been both helpful and healing. You can see photos taken that weekend at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ahr6Vy84krs

The 20th Day

I was in public service for over 30 years.  The standard for "bereavement leave" is three days.  Thinking about this simply stunned me.  On the police department I expected my employees to return back to work in three days after the death of a parent, spouse, or child?  Were we nuts?  And are employers nuts today to continue this practice?

It is now twenty days after my son, Matthew, died.  I am only now barely emerging from the "valley of the shadow of death."  I have found this grief to be extremely tiring -- about all I can do it focus to get through Sabine's morning dialysis.  I would identify myself as being fragile and raw.

On Sunday, I was able to return to St Peter's.  I even got through my sermon without breaking down.  That's an improvement!  My congregation was a lifeline -- they prayed for use, brought us food, bedding for guests and even a camping trailer!

This Sunday I was able to share with them how we can survive these cataclysmic events in our lives through an ongoing process of praying, processing, and progressing -- moving forward step by step.  This not only applies to a death in a family but also to a divorce, job less or severe illness.  It is about loss and loss takes time to heal.

This week I am taking steps to move slightly forward.  I belong to a care-givers support group at Gilda's Club in Madison.  I know I need more.  So, I have decided to join a suicide support group that meets twice a month.  I am committed not to bury all the feelings that surround a suicide and to enter into this process not only for my own healing, but also to learn more about grief and loss in order to help others.

That is our journey -- our spiritual journey -- as human persons whether or not one believes in God, the hereafter, or not.

Stay tuned for more reports from the front line.

Moving into and through Grief

It is now 16 days since my son, Matt, died.  What sustains me? How am I processing this enormous grief? It is a three-step process for me – Praying, Processing, Proceeding. It is an on-going process and not sequential. I pray. I am covered in prayer by my friends. I process. What am I feeling? I give it voice (through these blogs). I talk and I weep. Through prayer and processing, I move forward – the step forward into life not holding on the past but also looking forward to the future. From great evil, great pain and despair, God can make good come of it. I know this to be true.

And I also find sustenance in God’s Word; especially Paul’s Letter to the Romans:

“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us… We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time… But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has?... In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express… And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him… What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us?...


“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?... For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:21 ff).

This is what sustains me.

I hold God to his promises… I pray. I process. I proceed.

The Memorial Service

October 9, 2010 – Matt’s Memorial Service

Okay, here goes! How can describe this day and the days leading up to it and the days following? When I asked my wife, Sabine, how she would describe the day on a scale of one to ten, she said, “Twenty!” And I agree!

Family members began to arrive on Thursday and continue to Saturday and some stayed through the next week. On Friday, the massive “Matthew stone” arrived from the quarry and stone-carvers shop after son, Peter, and grandson, Ben, went to Galena, IL and picked it up in my pickup truck. It was then moved to the top of the hill in back of our farmhouse we now call “Restoration Point.” Thankfully, our friends at the hardware store in Mazomanie offered to provide a forklift to maneuver the ½ ton stone into place.

Thursday afternoon found a number of family members in our screen house reading letters of sympathy and support. I was only good for one round before I had to adjourn. Grief comes that way upon us, suddenly, often in unsuspecting times and places.

The liturgy began on Saturday just after noon with a fellowship meal brought to our farm by our wonderful parishioners at St Peter’s in North Lake. The day was spectacular: sunny, temperature in the 80s, and vibrant fall coloring in our woods. Our friends, Andy and Kathy, brought a car full of food and treats! What a wonderful way to begin with this time for food, fellowship, connection, and story-telling.

I asked my dear friend, Jeff, to be the worship leader. Jeff and I have known each other since I got out of seminary and he was my pastoral education teacher when I did a year chaplain residency at Meriter Hospital where he is the director of spiritual care. Jeff and his wife, Bonnie, live down the road from us and we do a lot of biking together in the rolling hills which surround us.

At 2:30 we all assembled on the path which winds up to Restoration Point. Jeff made the following remarks to us: “Your steps toward healing and restoration are ones you don’t need to make alone. Look around you, go ahead. You are a family, combined and complex… We know Matt felt peace here, for this is where he wanted his final resting place to be. Today’s steps up this hill are symbolic of your journey toward healing and restoration. It may take a lifetime to figure out what good may come out of what appears to be so bad. It is a journey that is not helped by going it alone, laughing in denial, or resigning in despair. It begins today from the place we are standing now. Let us walk this path to Restoration Point where Matt’s ashes will eventually be spread with the ashes of today’s fire. Let us make this walk in silence.”

And so we began the 30 minute walk up the hill. When we neared the top, we met those who needed assistance and then we all processed the rest of the way up the path with items for the Table: flowers, candles, a large cross, a white tablecloth, photos of Matt, and bread, wine, and chalice.

When we arrived on top, we set the Table and I anointed the palm of each person as they entered the clearing which contained Matt’s stone. The holy oil I used was the same oil I had used to anoint Matt’s body in Los Angeles just a few days before. We sat on blankets that encircled the stone and Table. Michael lit the ceremonial fire and Jeff prayed an opening prayer for our family – asking God to heal us in our grief, that we would not be overwhelmed by grief but have confidence in God’s goodness and strength in the days to come.

Tammy read the first lesson from scripture: 1 John 4:7-21, “Love is from God… If we love one another, God lives in us and his love is perfected in us…” Then Karl read the second lesson which was from 1st Corinthians 13:1-13, “Love is… patient… kind… not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude… does not insist on its own way… is not irritable or resentful… does not rejoice in wrongdoing… but rejoices in truth.”

Then most of us shared the letters we were asked earlier in the week to write to Matt. Some of us were able to read them before we cast them into the fire. Others (like me) simply were not able to read them out loud. In my case, Jeff read my letter to Matt:

(If you wish to view a copy of this letter, please contact me)
After finishing our letters, we cast them into the fire where their ashes would be mixed with Matt’s ashes and spread on this ground – this “Restoration Point” which is both a piece of land, but also a point of beginning in our lives together.

When we were all finished, we blessed the bread and wine, broke the bread and said the Lord’s Prayer together. Bread and wine were passed and shared: “Receive this bread/wine in love.” An Agape Meal of forgiveness, healing, restoration and love.

We concluded with a departing prayer. The same one I had used after anointing Matt’s body:

“Into your hands, O merciful Savior, we commend your servant Matthew. Acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming. Receive him into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light. Amen.”

We then concluded with a Celtic blessing:

“O Christ of the poor and the yearning,

kindle my heart within.

A flame of love for my neighbor,

for my foe, for my friend,

for my kindred all.”

Next we formed a “Circle of Love” around Matt’s stone and passed love through a hand-squeeze up one arm, into our heart, and out the other arm. Love was passed around this circle to each one of us.

“There is an end, and a new beginning.”

We were invited to leave the hill when we felt ready. Most of us stayed on the hill, taking family pictures, hugging, laughing… then crying… then laughing again. Then some of us sat in silence and slowly moved down the hill.

It is Sabine and my plan that this 20 acre parcel of land, with access off a nearby township road, be kept in the Couper family – for perpetuity – as a place for memorials, celebrations, visitations and recreation – to be a point of restoration.

Pictures of the memorial liturgy can be seen at: http://picasaweb.google.com/davidccouper/MattSMemorialAlbum?authkey=Gv1sRgCPeGo5zJroWsUQ#

As for me, I am beginning to heal. This is a great grief but it is somehow lessened by being family – finally after years of pain and separation.

My hope and love are beyond measure.

Matt is happy as God holds all of us in the palm of his hand.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Obituary

Matthew Couper, age 42, died unexpectedly at his home in Los Angeles on September 29, 2010. He was born in Minneapolis, MN on June 13, 1968 and was graduated from Madison (WI) Memorial High School.

Matthew was preceded in death by his grandparents, Jack and Elsa Couper and Leroy and Sally Kugler, and niece Allison Couper.

He is survived by his two daughters whom he deeply loved, Heather of Kawkawlin, MI and Gracie of San Diego, his father and step-mother, David C. Couper and Sabine Lobitz, his mother and step-father, Julie (Kugler) and Donald Manter, brothers Peter (Tamara), Michael, Joshua Couper, and Charley Manter; sisters Catherine Hubbard, Sarah Ineichen, Jennifer (Karl) Almquist, Sumi (Scott Shimek) and Yumi Couper, along with numerous aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews.

A family memorial service and rite of Christian burial will be held on the Couper farm near Blue Mounds, WI on October 9, 2010, officiated by the Rev. Jeffrey Billerbeck.

“’A voice is heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping…

There is hope for your future,’ declares the LORD, ‘your children will

return to their own land.’”

(Jeremiah 31:15, 17)

Matt's Memorial Service

It is now Monday morning.  Most of the family have returned home.  The memorial service for Matt on Saturday afternoon -- a warm, bright fall day in the 80s -- was "over the top."  By far, the best memorial, healing, restoration service I have ever witness or presided over in my 15 years of ministry!  God blessed us -- everyone!

Pictures and description will be forthcoming.

God, you are powerful and I deeply thank you on behalf of my family...

Safely Home

Safely home!  Sabine picked me up at the airport in Madison and we drove home together.  I am not used to being away from her for so long.  Returning to the farm, I noticed the trees were beginning to put on their fall color.  It was a warm evening.  When I finally hit the sack, I slept the first time in over 24 hours.  It was delicious.  Waking up in the morning, walking our trails and discussing plans for Saturday put me in a most peaceful place.

Some of us had prayed that Matthew's memorial stone would be completed -- this morning I received a phone call that it was ready to pickup in Galena.  Thanks be to God!

The family now prepares for the next steps -- the healing steps -- the restoration that can be ours in the midst of all this pain and sorrow.

Other members of the family, Matt's eight brothers and sisters, and their children and other family members will start coming to the farm today and tomorrow in preparation for Saturday afternoon.  The weather looks good, 85 degrees predicted and sunshine.  The "peace that passes understanding" awaits us.

Going through family pictures of Matt this morning brought tears again.  I hadn't wept at all yesterday thinking, hmmm, for six days you weep and on the seventh you rest.  It is now, for me, the beginning of the second week -- six days of weeping and on the seventh I may rest...

An Exhausting Day

I am sitting in the airport at LAX. It is 2 a.m. in the morning. I arrived here a couple of hours ago because I simply couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned for three hours in bed. Then I got up and drove here in my rental car. Better, I thought, to go to the airport and try and get an earlier flight. No luck. So here I am, waiting for my 5:45 a.m. flight to Detroit -- and then to Madison and our farm in Blue Mounds.

I arrived in Los Angeles on Thursday. It has been an emotional rollercoaster since I first learned of Matthew’s death on Wednesday afternoon. I was able to sleep that night – but not much. And here it is already Wednesday morning! How many hours of sleep these past six days? Too few.

I have been staying in Michael’s home with him, my daughter, Jennifer, my former wife, Julie, her husband, Don, and son, Charley. Some of us strangers with only one thing in common – Matthew.

Any death is tragic, but a suicide seems to be even more tragic. It affects more lives, more intensely, and requires so much more from everyone. There is getting the body released from the coroner’s office, making final decisions and arrangements with a funeral home, handling the property and personal effects of the deceased, contacting his family -- especially his children.

Yesterday, we were finally able to view Matt’s body. It was a time of saying goodbye and a time for Jenny and I to anoint him before cremation. That afternoon there was a “wake” at Michael’s home. A time where his friends came, ate, and visited. It was a nice afternoon but I could feel the emotional weariness begin to deeply set in.

How many phone calls, emails, and text messages had I made and sent during these six days? At least a hundred. How many times had I wept? More than fifty. I had never felt such rolling, cyclic grief before and I had never wept so much before so many people.

And now I sit here in LAX – dazed, drained, yet with anticipation of my flight home – perhaps a time to sleep? To see, and hold and kiss Sabine again and to prepare for the weekend memorial service that will, for the first time ever, bring all nine of my children together – from California, Minnesota, Florida, Wisconsin, New Jersey, and Afghanistan, on top of that hill in our woods. It has been Sabine’s dream (and my dream as well) to see this family restored and finally acknowledging her three children as full members of the Couper clan.

The last six days have been an opportunity for me to begin the restoration process – to repair the personal damage the divorce did to me, Julie and the children. To visit Matt’s former wife and daughter in San Diego. To finally get to know Julie’s husband, Don, and their son, Charley (Jenny and Michael were there with me to help bridge that thirty-year relational chasm). To both forgive and move forward as a family that could enfold all these people. The once-thought impossible now can be possible.

Throughout this phase of the restoration, the power of prayer has been both felt and experienced. This could not have been possible; I could not have negotiated this week, without it. It has been the prayers of my children, the prayers of our friends, the prayers of numerous church congregations that have made this possible and to this I am eternally thankful. My dear, dear children and friends – thank you! And God, you are present, you hold me up, you have strengthened me through this ordeal – this tragic event – and I know you hold my son in your arms. I know you keep your promises. I know you remember the day he was born and the day I stood and held you in your church and heard those blessed words after his baptism, “Matthew, you are marked and sealed as Christ’s own, forever.” God never forgot that declaration. And when Matt, from time to time, turned his back on God, God never, ever, turned his back on Matthew. And that’s the gospel truth!

O Lord, protect us as we journey to Blue Mounds. Keep us safe. We miss Matthew. Help us remember who you are and why knowing you is important to each one of us for our healing and restoration. Amen.

The Anointing

[What are the characteristics of a writer? He writes. And he uses his writing to speak his heart. One of my primary “love languages” (see: http://www.5lovelanguages.com/) is words – and that is another reason I write…]


Today Matt’s body was available for viewing at the funeral home before his cremation. I am now back at Michael’s home after going to the funeral home with my daughter, Jennifer, my former wife, Julie, and her husband, Don, and their child, Charley.

On our trip back from San Diego, Jennifer and I decided to anoint Matt’s body prior to his cremation; to cleanse him as a sacrificial offering, but also to do to Matt as three other women had done to Jesus after he died. “When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus' body” (Mark 16:1).

This was the fearful day I had always imagined; maybe the day every member of a broken family fears – a day when a family member dies. I had both thought and feared that our shattered family would one day have to come together at the death of one of us. It is a family blended and merged and now consists of nine children. And there I was, one of my children has tragically died, took his own life. And now I stood outside the funeral home with my former wife. I said to her, “Julie, I have always dreaded this day and now it is here. Do you truly forgive me for all that has passed between us? For I want you do know that I truly forgive you.” We forgave each other, embraced and entered the building.

As we anointed Matt’s body we prayed, “Lord, received the soul of Matthew, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming. Receive him into your arms and into the blessed company of the saints in light.” We marked him with holy oil with the sign of the cross on his head and over his heart. We told him we forgave him and loved him.

He now is healed and in a place where there is no sorrow, no weeping, no pain.

Afterwards, I had the opportunity to embrace Don, my former wife’s husband and thank him for caring for and loving Julie and my children.

I don’t know how I would have been able to have the strength to live through this week without the “sure and certain hope” of the resurrection -- and that God will hold me up. I also have the feeling of being uplifted by my friends and men with whom I have served on the OYTL Retreats for the cyclic pain and grief that continues to sweep over me is a pain and grief I have never experienced before. It is something that can drop me to my knees and yet somehow raises me up again.

Matt has now been anointed. He rests in the arms of God.

I can get on that airplane tomorrow morning at 5:45 a.m. and return home to my beloved wife and family members who will assemble on that hilltop in the beautiful unglaciated hills of Wisconsin and open themselves to more of God’s anointing through his Spirit. Integrity… Restoration… And faith in the true and living God. It is a peace that passes all my understanding. Amen. Thanks be to God.

The Grieving Fields

A person doesn’t often get to witness to that New Testament kind of God-power. However, my daughter, Jennifer, and I did yesterday. After three days in Los Angeles making arrangements and sorting things out after the death of my son and her brother, Matthew, we were ready for some church. We were all staying at son Michael’s home near West Hollywood and so I did a “Google-check” on local churches. I found one nearby and when we attempted to find it, but we couldn’t. We wanted to attend church to lift us up before we drove to San Diego to visit Matt’s daughter and his former wife who live there.

So both of us prayed out loud, “Lord, we need to find a church, please help us.” We drove by a Chinese Christian church but all the information on the sign board was in Chinese. We joked about that day on Pentecost when the disciples understood many foreign languages. I remarked that when I visit churches I always check out their commitment to welcoming and hospitality. I often find churches that are quite deficient in this area. We continued to drive down North Alvardo when we saw a steeple cross on a side street building. The doors were open. The sign was in English and a single parking place was available across the street. On the door was a sign announcing worship services at various hours in Spanish, Cambodian, Tagalog and English. We walked into the church and noticed the worshippers were all Asian and, we later found out, worshipping in Cambodian. A lovely young woman welcomed us, asked us to please sit down, and told us the English service would be beginning shortly and we could wait here.

Soon we were served Holy Communion, the woman who greeted us took a seat behind us and told us the minister was preaching on Philippians, chapter 4:

“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 9Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you” (my emphasis).

We quietly talked to the woman and then she put her hands on our shoulders and began to pray for our family, the journey we were on, and healing. Whaap! Tears of strength, healing, and restoration filled our eyes. We were truly anointed – blessed – strengthened!

After the service we were invited to lunch and ate a wonderful Cambodian meal with bread that reminded me of my visit to Cambodia some years ago. Then the pastor came and talked to us. He told us that he knew about grief. He had lost his parents, brothers and sisters in the “killing fields” of Cambodia (see: http://www.charismamag.com/index.php/news/20236-notorious-cambodian-killer-seeks-forgiveness), fled to Thailand, found Christ in the refugee camp, and arrived virtually alone and penniless in America. But he had something. He had the hope and faith of Jesus. He went to work, then bible college, and now had been a pastor for over twenty years! What a witness from a man who knew deep pain! The kind of pain Jennifer and I and the rest of my family were presently experiencing.

After lunch we headed south to San Diego – strengthened and anointed. Seeing Matt’s daughter, my granddaughter, and Jenny's neice again was another blessing. Jenny sat her down and they did artwork together, His daughter, who is seven, drew beautiful pictures of her and her dad at the water park we visited this summer, their time at the beach here in California, and playing ball together. More healing. And then she drew a beautiful, multi-colored picture of how she imagined heaven to be: “A great place!” and then wrote this on it:

“Dear Daddy, I will miss you so much!"

God’s restoration continues… "I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten…” (Joel 2:25).

In the morning we drove back to Los Angeles. We will meet as a family at the farm on Saturday.

More on the Death of a Son

If you wish to read this blog, please contact me...