Markle’s admission of pain hits home

I admit. I watched the interview, the big event on TV this past Sunday. As a voyeur of the royal family, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to hear a first-person glimpse of life inside the palace. I’ve watched every episode of “The Crown” on Netflix and would like to believe the close cocoon of this very unique family breeds a solidarity fueled by love as well as loyalty.

Initially, the interview felt distant. Talking about the royal life is not something I can relate to. Perhaps that’s why it makes good television. But then Megan Markle began to talk about her human pain, specifically her period of emotional darkness that became frightening. I recognized that look of sadness in her eyes. I’ve seen that look before.

Coincidentally, this week I connected with a friend of a friend who lost her son to suicide a few months ago. She contacted me because she thought I might understand. I do understand, in part. I’ve not lost a child to suicide, but I have lost two brothers. We found ourselves engaged in a conversation we would’ve never chosen, but nevertheless shared the common quest to seek hope amid unimaginable loss. We called her son by name. I, too, called my brothers by name.

Pat was gentle and kind. He was smart and his entire essence welcomed you to a safe place. He laughed with his whole body. We could have never imagined he would leave us. He’s been gone a long time, and I miss how much we could have shared. Neil was larger than life. He commanded the room with his perceptive insights. He knew when laughter was needed, and he knew when to listen. My brothers were as different as brothers usually are. We could have never imagined either would leave us. My family continues to feel the acute void of their passing. They were pretty remarkable men.

The incidence of suicide and those who’re sinking from hopelessness is alarming. When you or someone you love becomes rudderless due to sorrow, your heart aches with a desire to help, fix and heal. Despair is impervious to wealth, title or even royalty. When a high-profile person opens up about their very personal pain, I’m humbled by their courage.

The backlash to Megan Markle’s openness raises my ire. People who battle with suicidal tendencies exist in our families, our neighborhoods and our workplaces. They have names. Too often, those around them have no idea of their throbbing soul. It makes me sad to think the compassion expands only by personal experience. Lack of empathy can so easily lead to cruelty and judgment which is a very unattractive dead end to the cultivation of kindness.

We need to be able to pause with those who are struggling. Open hearts and listening ears illuminate dark places of loneliness. Being fearless together helps us all. Like Megan Markle and my friend’s friend, we must persist in the capacity to linger in our gaze. The temptation to turn away is strong. I get that. Yet, I’ve been on the other end of that loving gaze, and know how healing it can be. Paying that version of love forward makes good rise and paves the way toward hope. This is how compassion expands, and oh, how our world needs that now more than ever.

The backlash to Megan Markle’s openness raises my ire. People who battle with suicidal tendencies exist in our families, our neighborhoods and our workplaces. They have names. Too often, those around them have no idea of their throbbing soul.

Guest columnist Anne Marie Romer of Centerville is author of the book“Just Give Me the Road.” Her writings can be found online at annemarieromer.com.