In this latest piece in the Keep Talking series, B&T’s own Greg ‘Sparrow’ Graham reflects on some episodes in his life where he needed to keep talking.
I am a strong supporter of Ian Perrin’s Keep Talking initiative.
Conversations about suicide are inherently difficult, and the loss of a parent is profoundly heartbreaking.
In advertising and media, we spend much of our time focused on business outcomes, industry chatter and the occasional piece of gossip.
I’m not claiming any moral high ground here; rather, I believe it is essential that we also create space to discuss the more challenging realities of life; suicide, death, grief, guilt and loss.
Last year, one of my closest friends was diagnosed with a life-threatening illness that would significantly alter his quality of life and derail his career ambitions.
He was struggling deeply, and during a raw and emotional conversation, he confided that he was considering suicide.
I was shocked and unprepared for the conversation, but the most important thing was that we were talking.
I reminded him that he had a loving family, friends who cared deeply for him, and that we were available at any time to support him. Above all, I stressed the importance of seeking professional help.
After that call, I immediately contacted another close friend who volunteers with Lifeline and has experience in this area. Once again, open conversation proved critical. My friend received the help he needed and is now thriving.
Many years ago (though it still feels painfully recent) I lost my father, McGregor Watson Graham, known to us as “Mac”.
At the time, I was based in New York with Mindshare. After Dad suffered a heart attack, I flew home immediately while he was being airlifted from Wauchope/Port Macquarie Hospital to St Vincent’s Hospital in Sydney.
I was fortunate to spend meaningful time with him during that period, though his surgery was postponed several times.
When I returned to New York, his surgery was rescheduled after two cancellations. Sadly, it did not go well.
He was rushed back into emergency open-heart surgery, placed in an induced coma, and later contracted a severe MRSA infection while in ICU. His organs began to fail, and he was placed on life support.
I boarded the first available flight back to Australia, but I did not arrive in time to say a proper goodbye.
When I reached the hospital, Dad was still in a coma as life support was withdrawn. My mum, Pam, and my three brothers were with him during his final hours.
Even now, the memory is deeply traumatic. The grief was overwhelming, and I carried an intense sense of guilt for not being there at the end.
At the time, I focused on being strong for my family. As the eldest and Dad’s executor, I felt a responsibility to hold everything together.
I didn’t truly confront or express my own grief. Internally, I was devastated, and to this day, I wish I had been more open about my pain and loss.
This is precisely why initiatives like Keep Talking matter so deeply. Silence only compounds suffering.
We must continue to talk openly about suicide, death, grief, and loss, and support one another through these experiences rather than enduring them alone.
Thank you again to Ian for leading this initiative and bringing our industry together around conversations that truly matter. Let’s keep talking.
