I was 24 when my little brother died. Losing Will was devastating– we were supposed to enjoy another 50 or 60 years of sharing our (dark!) sense of humor, reminiscing about our shared childhood, and watching each other’s lives unfold.
So often, for so long, I felt like his death broke me.
It’s been almost 19 years now, and I often get messages from women and men who’ve just lost a brother or sister. They’re in the raw, jagged pain of their loss. They ask questions like, “How am I going to get through this?” “What helped you cope?”
For me, there were two things that helped me most: finding other people who were grieving, and writing. You can read more about how writing helped over at Elephant Journal.