At 76, Martin Short has chosen to speak plainly about the death of his daughter Katherine, who died by suicide in February after years of living with borderline personality disorder. In doing so, he is not simply mourning — he is reframing, asking a culture still prone to shame and silence to consider that suicide can be the terminal stage of a disease, as deserving of compassion as any other. His voice carries the particular weight of a man who has spent a lifetime learning, through accumulated loss, that denial protects no one.
Martin Short breaks silence on daughter's suicide, calls for mental health destigmatization
Katherine Short, 42, died by suicide in February 2026 at her home in Hollywood Hills after struggling with borderline personality disorder and severe mental health conditions.
Mental health and cancer are both diseases, sometimes terminal
Mark
When you say mental illness is a disease like cancer, what are you asking people to understand differently?
Mimi
That it's not a choice. That someone can fight it, can do everything right, and still lose. We don't blame someone for dying of cancer. We need to extend that same compassion to mental illness.
Mark
Katherine had training in social work. She understood mental health professionally. Does that make it harder or easier to talk about?
Mimi
It makes it more real, in a way. She wasn't ignorant of what she was facing. She knew the language, the frameworks. And it still took her. That's what I want people to hear.
Mark
You've lost so many people. Does that accumulation change how you grieve Katherine?
Mimi
It doesn't make it easier. But it does give you a kind of perspective. You learn that grief doesn't end—it becomes part of how you move through the world. You breathe in, you breathe out.
Mark
Why speak now, publicly, when you could have remained private?
Mimi
Because silence is what kills people. If I stay quiet, I'm participating in the shame. And there's no shame here. There's only illness and loss and a daughter I loved.
O Pulso
- Katherine Short, 42, a licensed clinical social worker who spent her career helping others navigate mental illness, died by suicide in February — a painful irony her father has chosen not to look away from.
- Short draws an explicit parallel between Katherine's death and his wife Nancy's death from ovarian cancer, insisting both were diseases, both sometimes terminal, and both deserving of the same compassion rather than shame.
- In a culture that still treats suicide as a whispered secret or moral failure, Short's decision to say the word aloud — and to frame it as a possible endpoint of illness — carries real disruptive force.
- A new Netflix documentary about his life premieres days after his public statements, but his candor feels less like promotion and more like a man who has decided that silence, after a lifetime of loss, is no longer something he is willing to offer.
At 76, Martin Short has chosen to speak plainly about the death of his daughter Katherine, who died by suicide in February after years of living with borderline personality disorder. In doing so, he is not simply mourning — he is reframing, asking a culture still prone to shame and silence to consider that suicide can be the terminal stage of a disease, as deserving of compassion as any other. His voice carries the particular weight of a man who has spent a lifetime learning, through accumulated loss, that denial protects no one.
Martin Short has broken his silence about the death of his daughter Katherine, 42, who died by suicide in February at her Hollywood Hills home. Speaking to CBS News Sunday Morning, the 76-year-old comedian and actor described it as "a nightmare for the family" — and then did something rarer: he named it clearly, without flinching.
Short drew a deliberate parallel between Katherine's death and that of his wife, Nancy Dolman, who died of ovarian cancer in 2010. Both were diseases, he said. Both were sometimes terminal. Katherine had struggled for years with borderline personality disorder and other severe mental health conditions, and she fought, he said, until she couldn't. The echo between his wife's final words — "Martin, let me go" — and Katherine's own plea — "Dad, let me go" — was not accidental. Short was naming something still difficult to say in most rooms: that suicide can be the last stage of an illness, not a moral failure.
Katherine was the eldest of three children adopted by Short and Dolman. She earned degrees in psychology and social work, eventually becoming a licensed clinical social worker in private practice — someone trained to help others navigate the very terrain that would claim her own life.
Short's losses have accumulated across a lifetime. His older brother died in a car accident when Martin was 12. Both parents were gone before he finished his teens. In the past year alone, he has lost his sister-in-law, his daughter, and several close friends. "It's staggering," he said. "You just have to breathe in, breathe out." That accumulation, he believes, has built in him a muscle for survival — a hard-won perspective that denial protects no one.
A Netflix documentary about his life premieres on May 12, but his willingness to speak about Katherine feels like something beyond promotion. It feels like a man who has decided that naming what happened — clearly, without shame — might make it easier for others to do the same.
Martin Short has broken his silence on a loss that has reshaped his understanding of grief. His daughter Katherine, 42, died by suicide in February at her home in the Hollywood Hills. The Los Angeles Medical Examiner's office confirmed the manner of death. Now, at 76, the comedian and actor is speaking publicly about what he calls "a nightmare for the family"—and in doing so, he is reframing how we talk about the death itself.
In an interview with CBS News Sunday Morning, Short drew a deliberate parallel between Katherine's death and that of his wife, Nancy Dolman, who died of ovarian cancer in 2010 at 58. Both were diseases, he said. Both were sometimes terminal. Katherine had struggled for years with borderline personality disorder and other severe mental health conditions. She fought, he said, "until she couldn't." He recalled Dolman's final words to him—"Martin, let me go"—and then Katherine's own plea: "Dad, let me go." The symmetry was not accidental. Short was naming something that remains difficult to say aloud in most rooms: that suicide can be the last stage of an illness, not a choice made in a moment of weakness or moral failure.
Katherine was the eldest of three children adopted by Short and Dolman. She had largely stayed out of the public eye, though she occasionally appeared at events alongside her father. She earned a bachelor's degree in psychology and gender sexuality studies from New York University in 2006, then a master's in social work from USC in 2010. She became a licensed clinical social worker in private practice—someone trained to help others navigate the terrain of mental illness that would eventually claim her own life.
Short's desire now is to pull mental health "out of the shadows." He wants people to stop being ashamed of the word suicide, to accept it as a possible endpoint of disease rather than a secret to be hidden. "Not hiding from the word suicide, but accepting that this can be the last stage of an illness," he said. This is not a small thing. In a culture that still whispers about suicide, that still treats it as a moral stain on a family, Short is speaking plainly.
He is also speaking from a life marked by accumulated loss. His older brother David was killed in a car accident when Martin was 12. Both his parents died while he was still a teenager. In the past year alone, he has lost his sister-in-law, his daughter, and friends including Diane Keaton, Rob and Michele Reiner, and Catherine O'Hara. "It's staggering," he said. "You just have to breathe in, breathe out."
That accumulation of grief has built in him what he calls "this muscle of survival and handling grief and a perspective on it." It gave him the resilience to become a performer, to stand in front of audiences knowing that their judgment was small compared to what he had already endured. In a 2012 interview, he reflected on loss with a kind of hard-won wisdom: "This is the thing of life that we live in denial about, that it will ever happen to us or our loved ones, and when it does you gain a little and you suffer a little. There's no big surprise."
Short is speaking now, in part, because a new Netflix documentary about his life, titled Marty, Life Is Short, premieres on May 12. The film touches on his early losses and the way they shaped him. But his public conversation about Katherine's death feels like something more than promotion. It feels like a man who has decided that silence serves no one—that naming what happened, and naming it clearly, might help others do the same.
Citações Notáveis
Mental health and cancer, like my wife's, are both diseases, and sometimes with diseases they are terminal.— Martin Short
I have a deep desire to take mental health out of the shadows so people wouldn't be ashamed of talking about it.— Martin Short
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