You are so right.
But this is what I say: As sorry as I am that my son took his own life, I actually have a lot to be grateful for. One is that he didn't do anything messy, like with a gun. Nor did he jump off a bridge (a distinct possibility as he lived in Portland, OR) so we'd never know what happened. He took something, that he'd apparently gotten over the internet, and was found the next morning by his roommate. So he also didn't languish in his apartment until neighbors complained of the smell.
I think it would be vastly harder to lose a child to some kind of accident (car, boating, whatever) or to some disease, or worse yet (in my opinion) to being killed by someone. Especially in a school shooting.
He chose to leave this life. I wish he hadn't. The night before he took his life, he called me and we talked for well over an hour, discussing things we'd never talked about before. I realized much later that he'd called me to say goodbye, without actually saying that. Our last words to each other were "I love you" and that means a lot to me.
And here's what I think of as the best part. He left behind a note (although it was dated some four months earlier, which raises the question of, What was that about? In the middle of it, he made me laugh out loud. What a gift from him, right?
And love back to you.