Your little brother just died. Or your older sister. You feel cracked and lost. You watch the world around you continue to spin, while your life stands still as a statue.
I read your emails, made of words that could’ve been mine, and I pause to imagine you, a new member of the same terrible club.
Many of you are young like I was, just beginning to arrange the collage of your grownup life. You tell me you don’t know how you’ll get through this. You can’t picture yourself being able to move on, get married, have children, or even hold down a job.
And though I build my life around words, when you tell me how much it hurts, words sometimes fail me.
Because I remember.
The chill of shock, the sudden launch from my ordinary life, the life with an intact family that I’d taken for granted.
I remember realizing that my old life, the one with a brother, was gone, a bridge I’d been hurled from. I knew that some unfathomable day, my life would be different, but in the beginning, I was stuck in the in-between, the purgatory, living neither in the old life or the new life, but in the chasm in between.
I remember the morning after I found out he died. After a night empty of sleep, I watched the steady sun rise, black birds sweeping through the air, headlights on cars pushing through the dawn. I wondered how it was possible that life was continuing.
I remember the naked, helpless feeling that anyone I loved could now be lost at any moment. It felt like losing gravity, the pieces of my universe suddenly floating and trembling, and there was no way to steady them.
I tell you that your loss is still so new, so raw, and that I’m so, so sorry.
I tell you that what helped me was the slow drip of time. That somehow, from those metallic, jagged, first moments, when the words careened through my head over and over again: my brother is dead, my brother is dead— I began to absorb the loss. The permanence. I became acquainted with the word never, and I rubbed my fingertips along the smooth metal of the word, trying to comprehend.
That I moved back home with my parents, whom everyone kept urging me to be strong for, when strong was the last thing I felt.
I tell you that I went for long walks, stepping over rolling pink worms, over ants the size of fingernail clippings, because life just seemed too fragile, too impossibly easy to break, and I couldn’t bear to bring any more loss to the world.
That I tried to sit with old friends and lose myself in their lives. I listened to them talk about dating and school and work, and I nodded my head, all the while those words still pulsing through me: my brother is dead, my brother is dead, the words hanging like a thick curtain, separating me from them.
That I sat in tight circles with widows, with mothers who’d lost daughters, and though the losses were different, we spoke the same language. We shared the same dark freefall of grief, the loss of gravity, the sudden shift in orbit. I rested there with them, listening to my feelings fall from their lips.
That I wrote letters to my dead brother because it helped me cry, and it helped me remember. And some days I needed to cry, because then I could peel my pajamas off and get dressed. And I would go for a walk, watching for small, breathing things.
That I turned towards my grief, I let it soak me and shape me. I understood how people could turn away from it, bending instead towards oblivion in its many forms. I understood how easy it might be to do that, to let my own life burn away too. But I didn’t. From some still lake deep inside me, resilience bubbled up.
And somehow, all these brutal moments curved into seasons.
And the grief, the missing, the brutality of never didn’t stop, but ever so slowly, microscopically, it softened. The rawness, the bloodiness, dissipated. And I started, so slowly I couldn’t even see, to wrap gauze around the wound. The gauze of time, the gauze of moments piled up without him, of small splashes of sunshine and rest.
After a few more seasons, I went back to school. I made new friends, and I kept writing about my brother. I still missed him viscerally. But amidst the worries about my parents and the future and the brutal fragility of life, I too started thinking about boys and school. About where I’d land.
Strings of skin criss-crossed my wound, the place where my brother was and never again would be, and they glistened there, pink and raw and gleaming, the most delicate new growth, the tender first signs of healing.
And maybe this is the hardest part to believe. The part that I can’t really tell you, because you have to live it to believe it.
There were gifts, too. Yes, I would’ve traded them for a day, an hour, a moment with my brother. But I couldn’t, and so I learned to breathe in the moments. And I learned we all lose, we all experience tragedy, and mine may have seemed too young and too big and painful, but each of us grieves, and it connects us to one another, like the strands connecting me with those widows and bereaved mothers. The same strand that connects me to you. You know too¸ we say without saying it. You know about the bone-deep ache. We peer at each other’s wounds, at the shiny patches of scarred skin, different from our own, but also the same.
My grief for my brother shaped me. It broke me so wide open, I had no choice but to rearrange myself, to build myself anew. The muscles of my heart grew stronger. My love more fierce. My words more true.
Over dozens of months, I built a life around my wound. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I still whisper on birthdays and holidays, or when I watch my kids hug after a day without each other. And sometimes, just on an ordinary day like today, I still miss him like a limb, and his goneness crushes me all over again.
But I built a life around the missing. And it is full.
We die, we die, we die. I remind myself over and over again, absorbing it, because it allows me to breathe deeper and love harder and feel each speck of air, each molecule, fill my lungs and release. Feel drops of sunshine on my skin. The sweet smell of my children’s necks, my husband’s forehead, the pine sap dripping in the yard. These slices of my life that I couldn’t have imagined in the hollow days after my brother’s death. And yes, some days it all feels too unsteady, too free of gravity, and I want to hold on so tightly my fingers clench and whiten. But if it were all guaranteed, it wouldn’t all be so achingly sweet. Love wouldn’t be so swollen, so clenched, so aching.
I tell you that with all my heart, if you just keep walking and crying, remembering and reaching out, you will move through this. You will build a life around the space where they were. I hope it is a lovely one.
This is so kind. Thank you.
I lost my nephew last January, my mother last August. Thank you.
Oh, Alexandra, I’m so sorry for your losses. Hugs to you, and thank you for reading and commenting.
A friend recommended your site to me and I’m so glad she did. I also lost my brother and related to every word of this post. Thank you. 🙂
Thank you for reading, Laura. I’m so sorry about your brother.
I lost my older sister 30 years ago, when I was 25. ALl you’ve written here so clearly expresses my life experiences too. Thank you so much, the burden is lighter when shared.
Donna
Thank you Donna. I appreciate it. I’m sorry for the loss of your sister. Take good care.
I just lost my cousin to suicide. Crushing. I can’t imagine his pain.
Oh Kelly. I’m so, so sorry for you and for all of your cousin’s family and friends. Ugh.
Last month my 21 year old brother died driving home from a concert. It was raining and there was a semi parked on the off–ramped. He hydroplaned and was killed instantly. I am 24. My life is now divided into ‘before’ and ‘after’ and i don’t imagine that will ever change. there is no guidebook to life after tragedy but it does help to know that others have felt and survived this pain.
Allison, thank you for your comment. I’m so very sorry for your loss. I was your age when my brother died and I understand the before and after. Much love to you as you navigate these first terrible months after your brother’s death. Take good care.
You have expressed all the feelings i have felt, still feel. I lost my sister 5 years a go. It was comforting to read. Thanks
Thank you Cerys. I’m so sorry for your loss. Hugs to you.
Sweet Lynn,
Thank you. I’m so sorry for the loss of your brother. I’m shocked when I number the limbs I’m missing: my beloved pets; my horses; my favorite jacket. Then there is mother; nephew x 2; brother-in-law, sister, friend. Of them all, sister’s valley took the longest to plod across. Oh, but then came the unthinkable, unknowable, undeniable, unacceptable, unbearable, raw, open, unhealable loss of my daughter. Recently I had a day when she was not my first thought when I woke. That troubled me more than all the days of clutching at her memories. I thought, “I can’t heal. If I heal she will truly be gone. No, I must not heal.” But God is greater. Almost indiscernably, the wound is closing. To my fellow travelers I say, the healing task is not ours. It belongs to Another. Healing will come. Like the light, it too will find us.
Dear Mary, thank you so much for your comment. My heart is heavy for all of your losses. Hugs and love to you. It sounds like you have great faith. Thanks again for writing. <3
Lynn, thank you for this. My little sister (age 30) overdosed on heroin on Christmas Day. She was found by my parents in her apartment, on the floor in front of the lit Christmas tree. Thank you for the message of hope and wholeness in time.
Oh, Amanda. That took my breath away. I am so, so sorry for the loss of your little sister. Wishing your family much peace, though I know there is usually not much of it in these early days. So very sorry.
I lost my brother in October he was 30 just a few years older then me . It’s just one of those nights where I just feel that deep dark sadness oh so vividly but your words have helped me . Thank you
Dear Chelsea, I’m so sorry for your loss. So glad that my words brought a bit of comfort to you. Thank you for commenting. Much love your way.
I thought this post and your post in the Huffington Post was beautifully written and expressed all the things I also have felt about the loss of my younger sister (and only sibling) 3 years ago when she was 22.
Thank you for sharing, it helps to know that there are others who understand.
Anna, thank you so much for your sweet words. I’m so sorry to hear about the loss of your sister. So heartbreaking. As you can see by the other comments here, you are not alone. Take good care, and thank you for commenting.
To all of you
What has happened to us can’t be changed but somedays I can find the strength and I’m trying to have more of those days. Living in the moment is I find one of my greatest coping mechanisms as is sharing with such lovely people. This isn’t because you want anyone else to suffer but because it shows us that things do carry on and there is joy to be had xxxxxxxx
Dear SP, thank you for your comment. I agree about living in the present. And yes, there is so much solace knowing you’re not alone. Much love to you.
Hi Lynn – I am so grateful to have found your post. When I am feeling particularly sad and lost, I find myself simply googling “My brother died”, in the hopes that I will find someone, something, that will ease my pain. You’ve done this for me today. My very healthy 35 year old brother died suddenly in his sleep of a heart attack 18 months ago. Unlike your brother, he had a wife and two young sons which is a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I can see him in them and I have them to love and cherish, hopefully for the rest of my life, and his wife has become the confidant that my brother was to me. But, they are also three more people whose lives have been devastated in his passing…two boys without a father and a wife without a husband.
I love your words, especially the two paragraphs starting with “My parents, who would never be the same…” I could have written the same thing. He was supposed to be my life person and now he’s gone and I am left trying to figure out how to get through it…while also doing my best to take care of my own family, my parents and his family. Anyway – thank you, thank you, thank you. Your words and reflections and the offering of hope with the pass of time, matter so much.
Dear Karissa,
Thank you so much for your comment. I’m so sorry to hear of your brother’s death– it must’ve been especially shocking given his good health. And I can understand both the solace and pain of having your brother’s kids and wife in your life. It must be so heartbreaking to see their suffering as well as hold your own and that of your parents.
Your words truly touched me today, so thank you for reaching out and letting me know that you heard mine. Wishing you peace.
Hello Lynn, beautifully written memoirs of your loving brother. We have similar experiences. I lost my brother at the age of 16. And yesterday was his death anniversary and decided to blog about it. I could have not done before. I am grateful that I have been able to work on my mindset and my spirituality to see the bigger picture that death is part of life and although we don’t see it when we loose we realise that the wisdom it brings to us and those who need it is priceless Namaste to you 🙂
Thank you Susanne. I read your entry about your brother and was very touched by it. Thank you for writing and for sharing your words, as well. Be well.
Dear Lynn,
My older brother, 47 y/o, died 2 weeks ago and I just can’t seem to take a deep breath. I don’t say lost because I lost him well before the day he died. He had Lymphoma and was in renal failure, but it was the cardiac arrest and anoxic brain injury that ultimately took him from us. For weeks he was paralyzed in his own body and unable to communicate…stuck in a minimally conscious state. I was there for him through it all – even when he took his last breath. I keep replaying the moment he passed in my head and hearing the nurse say “He is gone.” I feel stuck in that moment of time, yet every sunset and sunrise since that day slaps the truth in my face that another day has gone by without him. My beloved brother is dead. Like you, the fourth leg of our table is no longer there. The adult in me can be grateful he is no longer sick and suffering, but it is the little sister in me that doesn’t understand and cries for him to come back and sit at the table with us. So he can laugh at me when I spill my milk (which in childhood I seemed to do nightly).
I feel so alone, but after reading your post and other’s comments I know that I am not. Unfortunately, I am not. And I am truly sorry for your loss.
Dear Renee,
I’m so sorry to hear of the loss of your brother. I can’t even imagine going through what you went through, watching him slowly slip away. My heart goes out to you in this raw time of shock and pain. I understand the loneliness and the feeling of replaying a moment or a scene over and over in your mind. Please be gentle with yourself– this is such a very recent loss. Take good care and write here anytime. <3
Dear Lynn,
I lost my older brother tragically about 5 and a half years ago. Your writing on Huffington Post was totally something I could relate to. I am now the age that my brother was when he passed,26. I am happily married and expecting my first baby, a girl and it is so hard to think she will never know her uncle. It makes me so terribly sad that my brother will not meet my baby girl,his niece. He wasn’t there on my wedding day either and it’s these huge events in my life are so hard without him here. My mother will never heal or be happy again,it takes a toll on my our relationship that I slipped into caregiver role to her when my brother died,as my parents were newly divorced at the time and instead of leaning on one another they leaned on me and I feel as if I never was able to grieve because I had to be strong for my mom. Anyway I’m so sorry for your loss and thank you again for writing words that spoke right to my heart.❤️Whitney
Dear Whitney,
I’m so sorry for the loss of your older brother. That must be so strange to be the age your brother was when he died. Congrats on your marriage and your pregnancy~ I know what you mean about how it also brings up the pain and loss though. So bittersweet.
My heart goes out to you regarding your mom. It is so hard to have lost not just our siblings, but also our parents as they were before the loss. I’m so sorry for and your family.
Thank you for writing~ it means so much to me when people reach out. My very best to you and your growing family. <3
I’m sorry for the loss of your brother. I just wanted to say thanks for your posts, my sister died of a heart attack in March 2014 & I’m still struggling to get my head around the fact that she is gone but reading your posts & the comments from other people help me feel that I’m not alone & that all my feelings are normal. I hope soon to begin to deal with my grief but at the moment it is just too hard, maybe too soon & it’s easier to keep it all blocked up.
Dear Emma, I’m so sorry for the loss of your sister. It can take such a long time to wrap ones head around the immensity of this loss. Much love to you.
Maybe someone can help answer a question for me please? When someone asks you how many siblings you have how do you respond? I live in fear of this question, do I say 1 sister & hope that no one asks anymore details which would then force me into explaining that she has passed away or do I say I’m an only child which isn’t true but I guess is now in someways?
Emma, for me it depends on how well I know the person who’s asking me. If it’s very casual and someone I’m not likely to see again, I usually say it’s just me. If it’s someone I think is going to be in my life, or sometimes even if I just “get a feeling” they can handle it, I’ll say I had a brother who died. Saying I don’t have siblings feels like a lie, but it also just doesn’t always feel right to explain it and deal with the potential awkwardness. Such a hard question to field, though.
I lost my only sibling, my older brother in May. I saw a book a little girl wrote called “Am I still a sister”. I think about that sometimes, am I? My entire life I was Dave Walters “little sister” and was very proud of that. Now what am I? Losing my brother who was much more to me, a hero, a father and a friend I feel alone. I have my family, my parents, son and husband but….am I still a sister?
I just talk about my remaining siblings and leave it at there. I avoid any such talk, and move away from there or change the conversation. May be not the best thing. Take care.
I have two baby brothers…still…one lives in Pennsylvania, the other in Heaven…either way…either place…they are there.
Lynn. I am very sorry for your loss. I get angry on God when such things happen. I remember the phone call I got in the middle of night, informing me that my elder Brother is gone. My way of getting over the grief – shun everything related to him, pictures, or anything. Its hard for me to talk to my SIL and her little kids – who lost their father. I avoid talking to them, have got no strength. At the same time feel extremely guilty for not talking to them. Life goes on, I guess. thanks for your article. Take care.
Thank you. I appreciate your comment. I’m sorry for your loss, too. <3
I just read your article on post partum depression on the Mid, and it totally described my experience in a way that I haven’t felt before. I thought, “this woman knows me”. Then, I clicked on your website and read this and I thought again, “this woman knows me”. Thank you for validating me, and putting words to the jumble of feelings I’ve had since my kids were born and I lost my brother, all of which occurred within a few years of each other. Thank you.
Thank you, Jennifer! I’m so sorry for the loss of your brother. So devastating. We’re in a club no one wants to be in. Thank you for reaching out. One question– I don’t remember having an article on PPD in The Mid? Are you sure that was where you saw it?
Thanks, and take good care.
Must have been Huffington Post then…
Thanks Jennifer! It looks like Huffington must’ve recently reposted that piece or something. I was just curious. Thanks, and take good care.
Thanks so much for writing this beautiful letter, Lynn. I lost my little brother last year, and I really hope that one day I can be as appreciative of life as you describe yourself now. At the moment life just feels like sand slipping through my fingers.
Dear Raymond, I’m so sorry for your loss. It took quite a while to get to the appreciative part. I remember what you’re describing. Time helps. Thinking of you.
I can relate to every bit of this, especially the part about taking extra care to step over insects, so Thankyou for both this piece and the one in Huff Post. I’m 20 and I lost my older brother 2 weeks ago in an accident. He was just 26 and my best friend. This last fortnight has passed me by in hazy numbness but I hope one day thinks will be better and time will heal the pain.
Oh Ashleigh, I’m so sorry. You are in the thick of it. I’m so sorry for your loss. Time helps so much and was definitely my friend as far as my grief over my brother. My thoughts are with you.
Thank you…for your strength, guidance and wisdom. Thank you for acknowledging your pain and how others need hope from some source who knows exactly…exactly…
I am so forever grateful for my group of unknown friends on FB (Loss of a Sibling Closed group on FB) whom have been the voices of reason, the cries for help that kept me having purpose. I tell all of my grieving friends, especially the brand new ones whom are unknowingly but miraculously searching for help…anything to hold on to in those first few days, months and years….we all have wisdom to share if we are in fact still available… Literally…but I simply share the simplicity of breathing…one single slow breath at a time when the pain is too intense… And that one single breathe can be so cumbersome and complicated that the very act of trying to achieve a single breath has, for me…in my worst of times become signs of
..progress.
My baby brother died with a heroin filled needle in his veins…in a strange vehicle with a random struggling addict passing by and perfectly colliding with my recovering brother. I can’t even fathom how it happened, why or its purpose in the whole purpose filled life we are supposedly living…so I just don’t go there…I choose instead to take a deep breath until that is no longer expected from me.
Thank you, Amanda. I’m so glad you have that online support. I love the way you talk about the simplicity of breathing. Sometimes, that is all we can do. I’m so sorry for your loss, and that we share that part of our story of our brothers’ deaths. So painful. Much love to you.
Thank you so much for this. My sister sent it to me. We lost our brother four weeks ago in a motorcycle accident and I still can’t comprehend how he could be here one second and gone the next. It takes my breath away.
Dear Sarah, I’m so sorry for the loss of your brother. I know, the suddenness is so hard. It’s so hard for our brains and hearts to make the leap from someone being here to suddenly not being here. Thinking of you.
Thanking God that I landed on this blog. I have been looking for a forum where I can express how I feel with people who have been throught the loss of a sibling.
April this year I lost my only sibling, I found him collapsed in his bedroom. That morning he had tried to call me but I dint pick his call. I called him later on and he wasnt picking. I decided to go home and check on him,then I found him laying on the floor.
Life has never been the same. I miss him so very much.
I got married in July this year. Trying to get a balance between marriage life and taking care of mum.
There are good days and days when am all emotional about his death. I am trying to embrace life as it is and the fact that it is now a bitter sweet life.
Dear Jenny,
So sorry I am just getting around to responding to you. I can’t imagine the added distress of finding your brother. So much love to you. I can relate to the bittersweetness. So much of life for me has been about learning to accept the joy and the immense difficulties, and everything in between. Thinking of you.
I lost my only sibling, my younger brother a lil over 2 wks ago in a tragic car accident. He blacked out while driving due to a low blood sugar episode & his car drove off the highway & he died on contact. He was 35, his entire life ahead of him. He was supposed to get married & have children & grow old with me & help take care of our parents when the time comes. Im so angry with the world & with him for not being more careful with his diabetes. I keep asking why? And there is no answer. Google brought me to your blog & it’s comforting to see that my pain is shared, when I feel so alone & hollow inside.
My husband has no siblings & really has only experienced the loss of elders in his family. He cant yet relate to why I randomly cry or cant sleep.
Im thankful that I had 35 yrs with my brother & that he enjoyed precious moments with my 12 month old daughter, that she will only see in pictures. I find myself getting jealous of others with siblings. It’s so strange & unlike me. And I dread the day that I meet someone new & they ask me if I have a brother.
As you replied to someone above, I too am in the thick of it. Thank you for sharing your personal loss & for providing an outlet for us to share our pain.
Hi Crystal,
I remember those days of feeling envious of people with siblings. I used to get furious inside when people complained about their brothers or sisters– I wanted to shake them and make them realize what I was missing and how lucky they were. That feeling has faded a great deal over the years. You’re right, you’re in the very thick of it now. My thoughts are with you as you navigate this terrible time. You are not alone.
I have just stumbled upon this site by searching Goggle for encouraging words if you have lost your brother. I lost my brother June 8th of this year. He is my only sibling. My older brother and I was his little sister. There are no books to read on losing a sibling and reading these words of all of these beautiful people helps so much. I feel a connected bond with each one. No one understands the pain until they walk in it. The adult in me knows that he is at peace but the little sister in me wish that I could see him again. I am 44 years old he was 49 and there is not a day that goes by without missing him. We were supposed to grow older together, we were suppose to lean on each other when that day would come to bury our parents together. I just want to thank you for being brave and open enough to share your healing with the world. I read somewhere that it is not so much in missing him but learning how to live my life without him.
Hi Monique, I’m so sorry for your recent loss. I’m so glad you found this page. That is a good point about learning to live our lives without our siblings. So hard. Sending you love~ thank you for writing.
This touched me so much. My brother died in May suddenly at barely 60 years old. He was the most important person in my life and I loved and looked up to him always. I just don’t feel like going on without him in the world, he was to big a part of mine. I feel as though I’m all alone. What you said too about worrying if something will happen to someone else I care about…Hard to take.
Beautiful writing Lynn….
Hi Tamara. I’m so sorry for the loss of your brother. I hope you are able to get some support~ as you can see here, you are certainly not alone. I’m so very sorry, and thinking of you. Take good care.
Thank you for this. Thank you, thank you, thank you. My brother, Nick, died from addiction on August 10, 2015 at the age of 25. Your words describe the confusing, lonely, sad emotions swirling around my head eevry waking minute of every day. I’ve been repeating your last sentence above over & over to help me believe it. It is so diffcult to find resources for siblings. Just like you, people tell my older sister & I (I’m 31) to “be strong” for our parents. But we are lost. I am thankful to have her to navigate this new world together. I’ve been going to a therapist & monthly grief group with my parents, which helps. But there really is a lack of support for siblings. I am trying to stop focusing on the lifetime I am missing out on with Nick & focusing on the beautiful memories he’s given me. God, it’s just so hard. I’m really glad I came across your article today, it’s been a litte blessing during this difficult time. His birthday was earlier this month, so it’s been particularly difficult. Thank you for sharing your similar experience. Thank you. Thank you.
Hi Julia, I’m so very sorry for the loss of your brother Nick. I know, there’s so little for siblings. It’s really sad. There is a Facebook group called Compassionate Friends: Sounds of the Siblings that you might find helpful. You have to request to join it, but you should be approved if you’re interested. Again, I’m so sorry for your loss and that you’ve joined this club that no one wants to be a member of. Take good care.
Thank you, I will definitely find them on facebook
Oh, good. Here’s the link: https://www.facebook.com/groups/21358475781/
I was thrilled to see this blog and read about others who lost a sibling. I think it’s very overlooked and people seem to dismiss the loss as if it was “just” my brother. I am devastated from the loss of my friend and male figure in my life for 58 years. We had plans to do things together for many more years. My brother died suddenly May 2015 from a coronary artery blockage. We never imagined that would happen as my brother took great care of himself. I do see a counselor but still just feel sad and dead inside.
Tamara, I’m so sorry you’re hurting so much. Love to you.
I just want to thank you for writing something so honest and beautiful. I lost my younger brother to a heroin overdose in February; he was 24. The cards and texts stopped coming in April. Apparently the world feels like 2 months is an appropriate amount of time to grieve a sibling. I only get asked how my parents are doing. Meanwhile, I never sleep. I watched my parents age another decade yesterday. I worry that my other brother feels he has to now be twice the uncle to my little girl. My remaining brother and I have matching memorial tattoos. Sometimes I regret having a permanent reminder of my brother’s passing because someday I’ll get over the loss surely, but then I hate myself for thinking that could even be possible. Anyway, I just cannot thank you enough for putting something out there for people such as I, who are looking for anyone who understands this deep loss. I identified with everything you said.
Dear Stephanie, I’m so very sorry for your loss. I know what you mean about the world’s timeline on grieving– especially for a sibling. It’s not fair, and it’s not realistic. For me, the process of healing from my brother’s death took a long, long time, and came in fits and starts. Thinking of you and your family. Take good care.
My younger brother died in his sleep unexpectedly 7 years ago. We were only a year apart and very close. At the beginning of 2015, I thought..OK, I can breathe again, this will be a good year. Then in the spring my older sister died within days of a cancer diagnosis. I am lost again. I will keep my head up for my young kids.
Thank you for your words. I often feel like I’m the only one going through this but realize I am not and there is a lot of pain in this world.
Oh, Marie, I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine going through it twice. You might want to check out the Facebook group I mention in one of the above comments. I’m so very sorry.
Dear Lynn,
It’s been two years since I lost my brother who was just 32 when he died suddenly. In all this time, like you I have tried to find books, passages, ANYTHING about an adult losing a sibling to try and relate, gain reassurance even. I see so many parallels in what you describe and particularly the pressures of being strong, staying alive and well, and suddenly being face to face with the idea of mortality and being terrified by it.
So Thank you for writing this blog and your piece for the Huffington Post. I’m in tears reading it, partly in repressed grief but also relief that I’m not completely on my own with this.
Thank you x
Dear Zoe,
Thanks for your comment. I’m very sorry to hear about your brother. I don’t know why it’s so hard still to find writing about losing an adult sibling. My heart goes out to you~ you are so not alone.
Your words have helped me so much. I’m 23, and my only sister who was a week from 22 died in a house fire in May. My mother was in the house as well, got injured, but survived. This year has been very difficult, but your words and the words of others like you really inspire me to keep going. Thank you so much.
Oh Raven, I’m so sorry for your loss. That is so tragic. Much love to you, and take good care.
Thankyou for writing this, I loss my brother 3 weeks ago to suicide he was only 25 And I feel so empty and numb I have 4 children and I know I need to feel better for them but it hurts to think that I need to move on and leave my brother in my past just thinking about that hurts. all I want to do is sleep or just sit and be numb it doesn’t feel real even though I know it is and I seen him at his funeral it still doesn’t. I just want to feel ok again
Stacey, I’m so sorry for your loss. I remember that feeling of not wanting to leave my brother in the past– it hurts so much. Take good care of yourself. The pain will soften, but it takes time. Hugs to you.
Lynn,
My brother died in front of my mom, dad, sister, and I on November 13 almost 2 months ago. I am a zombie. I live just for my kids. our words are beautiful I just cannot grasp them. Why didn’t CPR work? Why did God take such a kind, young guy? WHY?! A strong part of me just wants to be up in heaven with him so bad, but I’m stuck here! My poor brother. It hurts every part of my body.
Dear Anna, I’m so sorry to hear about your brother. That sounds so terrible. I know that feeling of your whole body hurting. It will get easier, but it takes time. Thinking of you.
I feel as you do about my brother
“My grief for my brother shaped me. It broke me so wide open, I had no choice but to rearrange myself, to build myself anew. The muscles of my heart grew stronger. My love more fierce. My words more true.”
Beautifully said.
Thank you for your kind words!
I don’t feel that way at all, maybe too soon. My brothers death left me empty and worried about everyone left behind. No good will ever come from my loss, I just have to try to live day by day.
I happened upon this site as I still try to recover from the sudden and unexpected death of my brother, my only sibling two years ago.I found him after he had a massive brain bleed. My heart especially goes out to all those whose loss is so new and raw. I remember stumbling through each day wondering if the nightmare would ever end and whether I could actually survive the worst blow of my life. He was 67 and my big brother. We lost our mother as children and our bond sustained us through many other tragedies in adult life. I have survived but I miss him every day. Grief is a lonely journey and doesn’t follow any expected timeline. I still cry every few days and accept it as what’s normal for me. I am engaged in life and derive great joy from family and friends. Neither of us had children so I am the end of the biological line. I do have beautiful grand-children by my lovely step-daughter. Reading your letter Lynne and all the posts has been a consolation. Thank you all and may you receive grace and solace as you travel this hard road.
Hi Diane,
I’m so sorry to hear of the loss of your brother. Your words about grief being lonely and having no regard for any timeline are so true. Much love to you and thank you for sharing a piece of your story.
I too lost my big brother last May to a sudden heart attack. Like you he was my world and things will never be the same. I feel so alone without him even though im not alone. There will never be another like
Thank you Lynn for you response and for this blog. I wish I’d found it earlier. Tamara I do understand that awful feeling of aloneness that persists even in the company of other loved ones. No one can replace our brothers in our lives. My brother was my constant companion in life from the day I was born. I felt this even though during much of our adult life we lived in different countries and cities. It’s true Tamara that life will never be the same. Right now you probably can’t imagine that the aloneness is bearable or that it may change in its overwhelming intensity. I still feel it but it is no longer viscerally present every moment. I do think it helps to talk and share the feelings. That’s why a blog like this is so important. It’s early days for you Tamara. I remember coming up to the first anniversary of my brother’s death.I was filled with recollections of ” earlier this year we….” or “this time last year we…..”. There’s no easy way through. Thinking of you and sending lots of loving energy.
Thanks for sharing your pain to ease of others grief. I lost my younger brother Oct 2015 suddenly. i had phone call on Sunday morning to informing me my brother is not well.I thought he might be sick so ask them take him to hospital but i heard at the background my dad is crying. That was the kind of felling i have no words to explain it. In my entire life i never seen my dad crying. without any words that explain me a part of my life is gone.i was living other side of the world and that time i had 4 weeks old baby and only thing i want to go and see my brother. leaving 4 weeks old baby with my husband i flew to see my brother. 9 months after, The pain is unbearable even smiling with my baby is guilt.So desperate to see my brother. Days and months are passing by but my heartache is the same.If one day i feel bit better then guilt comes back am i forgetting my brother ?
Raj, I’m so sorry for your loss. You are not alone.
Hi there! My name is Carmella Rendon. I read your story I felt so at home but, it’s all very true my life started after my brothers death it seems then everything else just had somewhere to lay after that Its been since June 15th 2005 after the death of my brother Gary then shortly my husband was sentence ten years in jail. But, it all really hit whenever my momma was soon to be gone. Which leaves me know with my younger sister and brother. My sister has lupus and my brother is just sometimes too much to ask at times. But, I wouldn’t want it any other way. No matter how the day is everything else can wait! I feel like I’m dazed but, by the Lord only he knows what it is I really am here for. All I know is to take care of my family and that’s what I was taught so, that’s what I do. There’s times whenever I’m very angry with the world but, my love is so, great that whenever I look in my brothers eyes all that angry goes away. I do with all my hurt like it never existed just by telling others how lucky it is to be able to live and love my family today. Amen only God knows why? I’m still here.
Hugs, Carmella. That is a lot.
Thank you for writing. My sister and I danced to music in her kitchen, shared salad, exchanged Christmas gifts, went to a movie, and hugged those long hugs she was so good at on New Year’s day this year. One month later she died of a heart attack. She is the second sister I have lost suddenly – the first was when I was ten. I know this path. It sucks. And it sucks. And it sucks. And I’m grateful to read words that are truthful instead of clinical or just stupid because of course I’m not sleeping. I’m up crying and writing to her and listening to her favorite music. . Thanks for letting me know I’m not alone.
Oh, A, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine losing two sisters. Thank you for sharing your vivid memories of your sister. Hugs to you.
You so expressed just how I felt. Time does heal all,things, however the scab of loss Of my only sibling is always with me. Sometimes it begins to bleed and sometimes not. So much of this article really hit home for me. Thank you for being able to express what so many of us feel.
Thank you, Diane. Big hugs to you.