Answer the phone or the door, then wish you hadn’t. The news, even if you expected it, will stun you. You will feel as if you’ve left your own body behind too, and are hovering slightly above yourself, watching the scene unfold like some terrible TV movie.
Gag. Vomit. Shout No to the person who tells you.
Refuse to believe it.
Tell them this happens to other people, to other families.
Not you. Not yours.
Stumble, somehow through the raw first days. Shower. Press small pieces of bread to your lips. Sip water. Realize the desperate animal sounds you hear are coming from your own body. Wonder how it is that your lungs keep filling with air, over and over again.
Sit through his memorial service. Thank the cottony cloud of shock that makes this all feel unreal. Cling to it. It will be worse when it, too, leaves you.
Hear people implore you to be strong for your parents. Try not to scream at them. Know the truth that these people don’t know: That yes, it must be an unbearable hell to outlive a child. But that the immensity of your parents’ loss does not dwarf your own—it fucking magnifies it. Because in losing your brother or sister—the person you were supposed to live a lifetime with—you’ve lost your parents as you knew them, too.
You feel like your arm has been hacked off of you, and a leg too, and hell, all of your limbs, and now you are a battered, bleeding torso. Resist the urge to explain that to these people urging you to be strong—that you have just had your limbs chopped off and that has earned you the right to not have to be strong right now. Not even for your parents. Instead of flinging words at the people who dribble these stinging, well-intentioned platitudes, simply stare. Shine them the entire, holy weight of your pain.
Hear the words pound through your head over and over again: my brother is dead. My sister is dead. These words are nudging you across the bridge from your old life, where your sibling was alive, to your new life, where they’re not. It is not a bridge you wanted to cross—you hate this bastard bridge. But you can’t turn back.
This is the bridge you are on.
Sort through your sister’s belongings. Think she wouldn’t want me to read her journal. Wonder how it’s possible that this pile of CDs and t-shirts is all that’s left. Listen to your brother’s favorite song, again and again, until your body is empty of liquid to make tears with.
Fall completely and utterly apart. Imagine the entire rest of your life, all the love and loss, the weddings and births, the sick days and vacations, and how damned bittersweet every single event of your life will be because your brother won’t be there. Dream of the faces of the nieces and nephews you’ll never have, the ghost of holiday gatherings that won’t be. Ask why him? over and over again, and wait for the answer that doesn’t come.
Go for long, tentative walks. Refuse to step on wriggling worms or the small black bodies of ants. Because maybe there is someone back home waiting for them, some worm sister or ant brother, and you can’t bear the thought of sending more grief in the world, even invertebrate grief.
Be afraid to go to sleep. Not because of the nightmares. But because you might dream them alive again, and for just a sliver of a second when you awake in the sweet smudge between sleep and consciousness, you will think their death was a mistake. And the news will come thundering down. Again.
Notice, despite yourself, small scraps of beauty: a star-patched sky. The singing face of a stranger at a stoplight. Moving water. Let the thought wash over you, for just a moment: you will be okay.
Scream at your sister. For leaving you behind. For ruining your parents. For causing this terrible pit of pain.
Apologize for your rage. Forgive her.
Forgive yourself. For being alive. For the times you called your brother an asshole. For not saving him. Forgive yourself, over and over and over again.
Find someone else who has lost a sister or a brother. Discover there is a silent army stretching all across the earth made of people who are walking across the same bridge as you. An entire troop of torso people. Imagine them, in India, in Wisconsin, in Argentina.
Approach the anniversary of her death. Be wary. It looms like a portal, making you think, for a sick second, that you can bend back time, that you can stop it from happening. Meet the day anyway. Let loose a bouquet of balloons. Write your brother a letter. Go to the ocean. Order his favorite pizza. Go to sleep and awake the next day, surprised that it still hurts this much, surprised you have survived a whole year without him.
Wish more time away. Let it pour over you and do what nothing else can—soften the throb of your phantom limbs. Let it push you across that shitty bridge. Let it show you what is still here—your sharp mind, your sinewy heart, a future that is not the one you wanted, but the one that is, nonetheless, waiting for you.
Hesitate when someone you’re just meeting asks you, “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Hold your breath as you weigh your answer. Know that anything but the awkward truth will feel wrong.
Notice that you haven’t cried in a day, a week, two weeks. Feel grateful for the terrible strength of the human spirit, for the press on and on and on.
Live your sweet, hard, singular life. Have a son whose eyes will be a carbon copy of your brothers’. Build something strong and beautiful. Whisper, I miss you into the flesh of your pillow.
Stand back and stare at the bridge you’ve somehow crossed. You were there, and there, and there. You have walked to a land you’d never imagined. You are used to it now, except on anniversaries and also Tuesdays. But you will always wish you hadn’t had to walk across that damned bridge.
image by Ben White via Unsplash
It was just two years for me since my brother passed, and when I just read your post, you nailed it all! He was younger than me, only 46, and it was sudden and sad, changed all of our lives forever. Your post is just a reminder that there are others like me out there.
Thank you:-)
Thanks Donna. I’m sorry for your loss. Those anniversaries can be so hard.
I have been trying to say these words for 47 years, since I lost my brother in Vietnam, seemed to me like nobody wanted to hear them. And now, you have just written everything I wanted to say and have bottled up inside of me except for a few times when I just couldn’t swallow the words any longer and lost complete control. And then being told not to lose control,that I was different somehow because I couldn’t let go.I never got to grieve, nobody was there. But i have grieved since 1970 and will continue to grieve until I am gone. I live life but I always feel like something is missing, and something is. “My Brother, my best friend and worst enemy at times growing up. Life changed that day, when we were told about my brother, and it has never been the same. So many more tragedies have happened and at times I wondered how much more can one person take, and then.. I stop, and continue on for him, for my Dear Mother, who could not bear the pain of the loss of her first born and went to be with him. I continue on.I now have children that are grown, grandchildren, they are all growing older every day. And I continue my crusade to keep My, “Brothers and Mothers Memories alive.” I know the pain, I have been there to the bottom, and all I can do is keep my head above water and help others, in doing so, that helps me. Thank You for your story,it helps to know not all of us grieve alone.
Oh, Karen, I’m so sorry for your losses, and for the fact that you weren’t able to express your pain. Hugs to you, you are definitely not alone.
Thank You Lynn, I am finally hopeful in knowing I am not alone in this
pain of being a Gold Star Sister and a Surviving Daughter of Suicide.
Thank You for your story, If you would give me your permission could I share your story with other Gold Star Siblings? I understand if you would rather not.
In any case, Thank You.
Hi Karen,
You’re of course welcome to share a link to this piece. Or did you mean share in a newsletter or something? Let me know what you were thinking. Thanks,
Lynn
WHere is the link? I want to share this. I have had to bury two children. The most recent, November 12th. My Daughter and Son are devastated. I would like to share this with them.
Mary, I am so sorry to hear of the losses of two children. That is more than anyone should have to bear. I believe Karen is referring to my blog post above, but you might also forward this to your kids: https://www.huffingtonpost.com/lynn-shattuck/loss-sibling_b_4843824.html
Thank you for sharing the raw, honest truth of each part of the journey of losing a sibling. The last paragraph says it all. Your blog is a ray of sunshine’s clarity for all us crossing this bridge. Much Love xx
Thank you for your kind words. Hugs to you.
Amazingly accurate. <3
This is hauntingly beautiful and oh so true. Tomorrow marks two months since my sister passed after fighting leukemia. Some days the grief is overwhelming and other days I’m amazed at how much I have accomplished.Thank you <3
Sara, I’m so sorry for your loss. You are in the thick of it. Hugs to you.
Thank you. It was a long and difficult battle. She was just 31 and made it to see her son turn two. While I’m relieved she’s no longer suffering, I still don’t want to believe it’s true.
My 33 year old brother just passed on April 26. He survived a horrific near death motorcycle accident 7 years prior.to being diagnosed Nov.2016 with Leukemia. I’m so thankful I found this site filled with hope and sharing. Support really does help.
Marta, I’m so sorry to hear about your brother’s death. Much love to you.
This is fantastic. My brother took his own life just 2 years ago at the age of 22. I am now his age, it is a strange feeling. I applaud you for writing this — it is very emotionally accurate. I am sorry for your loss.
Hi CD, I’m so sorry for your loss. That must be so strange to be the age of your older brother. Hugs.
I am so sorry for your loss 🙁 My heart goes out to you. Thank you for commenting on your feelings about being his age. I can’t relate with my own brother, who died in the womb, but I am the first of my siblings to reach 32, the age my dad was when he died. March 11th, in the evening, I will be officially older than he was. It’s been very hard, but something few seem to understand.
May you come to find deep healing and comfort.
This is so beautiful and spot on Lynn. Thank you for your words. As a hospice social worker I thought I understood grief. That was until a few months ago when I lost my 29 yo brother. Your words have expressed my journey better than I have been able to. It is a difficult bridge to be on and I have been discouraged how there are no groups or outlets for sibling loss. Thank you for recognizing this loss as significant.
Hi Laci, I’m so sorry for the loss of your brother. I know how hard it can be to feel alone in this loss– I still don’t understand why there aren’t more resources. Thank you for reaching out, and thank you for the work you do as a hospice social worker.
Lynn Shattuck, just thank you. I’ve stared death in the face with leukemia, & have had chats with my loved ones… never easy. But so necessary. Your words have come so close to my thoughts. healing?
Lynn Shattuck,just thank you.I’ve stared death in the face with leukemia, & have had chats with my loved ones… never easy. But so necessary. Your words have come so close to my thoughts. healing?
Thank you Cindy. Many hugs to you.
I literally sobbed reading this. Since the DAY of my sisters funeral people have told me I should be “over it”. Thank you for putting what I have been feeling for 37 years into words. I feel normal for the first time since she that drunk driver sold her from me. Thank you
Oh, Maura, I’m so sorry. I don’t think we get over it, ever. Love to you.
You’ve captured my feelings so well. My sister passed away suddenly seven months ago. And it was a Tuesday. And I didn’t get to say goodbye. We were so close, like twins growing up, just a year apart. There are things I know about her that no one knows. I miss her so much. I don’t think I’ve crossed the bridge yet. But I have begun to see the beauty in life. I’ve begun to live again… Only because that is what she would want. Thank you.
I’m so sorry, Donna. No, I think the bridge takes a long time to cross, and your loss is so recent still. Hugs to you.
Thank you for speaking the words that I have Felt every since 11/5/15. My brother fought a 7 month battle with leukemia and even though life never will be the same.. these words express every emotions that I have felt
Erica, I’m so sorry about your brother. Thinking of you.
Thank you so much for this. It is a perfect summary of everything I have felt since my brother’s death. Wednesday will mark 2 years since his murder. Thank you for putting into words what my heart has felt for every one of these 726 days ?
Oh Jennifer, so sorry about your brother.
My brother Michael passed away 11 years ago he was in a motorcycle accident he had just turned 37 & it literally destroyed my family & nothing has been the same not a day goes by that I do not think of him there are days that I physically feel sick I wish he was still here
RIP Michael Angelo Benedetto
September 2,1968-September 4, 2005
Gina, I’m so sorry. Heart-breaking. Hugs to you.
I do not believe I’ve ever read such an accurate description of my life just over one year in. There is such a strange comfort in sharing loss. Yet, it is still comfort.
Linn, I totally agree about the strange comfort. I’m sorry for your loss.
YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for writing this. Love to you.
Thanks, Noelle, for reading it! Love to you as well.
My only sibling, my sister, died when she was 21 in a crash. It’s been 21 years since her death. My in-laws have repeatedly referred to me as an only child. Even though they never met her, even though it’s been all these years…I want to punch them in the face. Every. Single. Time.
Oh Amy, that sucks. I’m so sorry. I would totally want to punch your in-laws in the face, too. Hugs.
I lost my brother 37 years ago…still miss him and it still hurts but not as sharp..life goes on but 0 yes I think of the nieces and nephews i didn’t have aware of him not being there for weddings, births, holidays .we survive we go on we cross the bridge we didn’t want to cross…❤
Well said, Mary. Thank you for reading and commenting.
Thank you for writing about this. It’s a topic that needs more words in publication. I was lost when my sister died, and still feel like I’m without a rudder in those moments when it hits me: She won’t keep my memories honest, won’t help me through the old-age years, won’t help me keep alive the reality of our youth or the pain of the decline of our parents; she and I won’t keep our pact to warn each other of the craziness that we saw creeping into the lives of our older family members. The loss of a sibling is a real tragedy that many people can’t relate to. You lose not only a piece of your history, but a piece of your future. Life won’t be the same again.
Thank you, Julia. What you said resonates so much with me. Hugs to you.
Oh Julia. As I’m still early in the process, it’s definitely helpful to see it put so eloquently into words. Keeping the memories honest really struck a chord. Hugs to you.
Thanks Julia. Your last three sentences are so raw and real. These words can only make sense to the souls that have lost their sibling. Go gently on your journey. Much Love xx
I am in the early stages of crossing this bridge. I lost my older brother on Novemeber 3, 2016 in a motorcycle accident at 43.,I’m 40 and our other surviving brother is 46. We are all devastated. These words say exactly how I feel. Everyone keeps telling us to take care of our parents, age 73 & 79. I just want to scream at them. I can barely hold myself together. We now have his beloved dog(he had no children) and we are getting through this together I tell him. Somehow we have to.
Libby, I’m so sorry. Thinking of you. It’s so hard.
This is so good. You nailed it. Your writing is very good and I appreciate your not trying to make it flowery and poetic, just real.
I’m so glad I found this. You couldn’t have said it better. I lost my younger brother in 2007 to oral cancer. We were best friends growing up and had tremendous fights that we later laughed about. He was 45 and had 3 little kids. His family was my family too and I took comfort in that. Now time has marched on and the kids are away at college and my sister in law has met another guy and is selling their house; the one I remember my brother being so excited about and died before he could finish their basement. For a long time I searched for him even looking on the internet asking where he was. Now, last July, I lost my older brother very suddenly. I had so many memories with him and he lived in the same town as my mom. I looked to him and was so proud of him and the successful career he had. My mom is broken completely and will never get better. She is 82 and has slight dementia. She can be very difficult and I always thought my brothers would be with me when she passes on and to help deal with her in old age. My mom says I don’t know and can’t imagine her pain. That hurts because my brothers were my past, my present, and my future. After my mother is gone, I will have no family left. My mom says that she is alone and I have a husband like that lessens the pain of losing my brothers. When you forget for that moment that they are gone, and you think, I have to call him and tell him about my new job…and then that reality sets in. I live in fear of losing my husband as then I really will be alone. Both of my brother’s families are gone from my life too, other than seeing them on Facebook. Anyway thanks for writing this article for us silent sufferers of sibling loss.
Oh, Sheree that is a lot. I’m so sorry for all your loss. My heart hurts for you.
Sheree, I hope, wish, and pray comfort for your broken heart. Please try and take care of yourself. I know you are loved, for you are able to give so much love. Hold on to the good memories and the love.
Lynn, you have written what I am feeling. I recently lost my older brother three months ago in a tragic snowmobile accident. He was 53 years of age and he was our rock. Our family have never experienced this type of tragedy before, so we overcome with the grief. It’s strange you mentioned the idea of not stepping on ants or worms while out walking, as that’s how I feel too. How can I do that as they are living creatures too and I don’t want to inflict pain on their families! I thought I was cracking up, but now I see I am not alone in this type of thinking and it’s part of the grieving process. Thanks for writing this article. You give me hope.
So sorry for your loss, Glennyth. You’re not cracking up, but it sure can feel like it at the time. Grief does some pretty crazy stuff to our minds. I’m glad you found my website, and that you’re able to feel a glimmer of hope. Much love to you.
Just came across your article today. I have been feeling pretty down the last couple days. Soon will be 2 years since my older brother (and only sibling) died, he was 35. I also had the luck of his death being a few days before my birthday and I’ll be passing him up in age this year, and it just feels so wrong. Thank you for writing this, it perfectly explains the anger and sadness I have been going through these last couple years.
Hi Ryan,
Thanks for writing. I’m sorry about the loss of your brother, and that sounds especially hard that he died just before your birthday. Can’t imagine the strangeness of surpassing him in age. Take good care.
Great blog post Lynn.
I am so much better for it for reading it.
Thank you so much.
My big brother just passed just gone 5 weeks now he was 45.
I have just emptied my head by writing the events of the entire night he passed away in hospital through cancer.
I had the honour of doing his eulogy for the family. I think doing these two things has allowed me to cope and grieve as best as i can. We have pictures everywhere of him in the house and in the home office. I watch the funeral service for him and listen to the laughter of the 180 plus people whos lives he changed in a short 45 years. I have done a large portion of whats in your blog, and its all so very true.
I attended my first full week of work last week, it was a welcome distraction although very fatiguing.
One startling thing i have noticed within myself though is that my focus on my favorite entertainment Motorsport has pretty much vanished. I have no inclination to watch it or cant be bothered, but strangely enough i have now taken up collecting coins. Two hobbies that could never be further apart.
Tom.
Hi Tom,
I’m so sorry for the loss of your big brother. Such an enormous loss. I’m glad you’re able to write about it~ I found writing to be a huge help in processing my grief. Hugs to you as you navigate this road. Take good care.
Thank you so much. This is the first thing I’ve read that really encompassed what I’m feeling. I’m 23 and my brother was 24 years old. We were born 14 months apart, him older than myself. He died on April 20,2017. So… 24 days ago. I am astounded by how resources there are. If you have any recommendations please let me know. I don’t even know where to begin.
Hi Madison,
I’m so sorry to hear of the loss of your brother. It’s so recent and huge. I know, there aren’t a ton of resources but here are a few.
I found this book to be helpful:
https://www.amazon.com/Surviving-Death-Sibling-Through-Brother-ebook/dp/B001RLTFES/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1494950335&sr=8-2&keywords=sibling+loss
And if you’re on Facebook, this is a group for grieving siblings:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/21358475781/
Hope this helps. Take good care.
Thank you so much for this piece. I lost my sister a little over six months ago and am still reeling from her sudden death. Your statement “But that the immensity of your parents’ loss does not dwarf your own—it fucking magnifies it. Because in losing your brother or sister—the person you were supposed to live a lifetime with—you’ve lost your parents as you knew them, too” is SO spot on. I came across your blog via Elephant Journal and am so happy I did. Beautiful words.
Thank you, Mary. I’m so sorry for your loss. Hugs.
Dear Lynn,
You are a very gifted writer and your blog (this piece in particular) has brought me comfort. I lost my 22 year old brother 4 months ago to suicide. Indeed I compared – in my own journal – feeling like a torso without limbs being told to “be strong” or “have faith”. The pain is unimaginable. Thank you for sharing your feelings and journey. I take comfort in reading that there could be a future ahead, though it couldn’t be further from the one I wanted.
Stefanie
Hi Stefanie, So striking that you used the same metaphor about feeling like a torso. Hugs to you, I am so sorry for the loss of your brother. And I understand about this being the future you didn’t want. The pain does soften, but it takes time.
My family and I are coming up on the one year anniversary of losing my baby brother cobey. On the 27th, it will be one year since I’ve heard his voice. One year since I’ve hugged him. One year since he told me he loved me. He was 16, and he died alone, in a silly car crash that shouldn’t have taken him. I would do anything for him to be here. He was only 16. I don’t know how we are supposed to move forward through this, it’s like this time of the year makes it so fresh and so.. raw.
Thank you for your words. They are some of the realist ones I think I have read on sibling grief.
Taylar
I’m so sorry, Taylar. I know what you mean about going through the anniversary. For me, that first year almost felt like it was happening all over again. Hugs to you.
Finally after almost 11 years I have found what I have been looking for. Others who have lost an adult sibling and have had the same feelings I had/have. I think the grief has softened slightly but still so raw.
Life has changed and is lonely without my sister.
Amanda, I’m so sorry. I know what you mean about the grief softening. Love to you. I’m sorry you’re here, but glad you know you’re not alone.
I also find myself in the first year (because I went through this in 2007 with my younger brother) “thinking a year ago he was alive at this time; a year ago we spent our last Christmas together but didn’t know it would be our last.” I knew my mom and I would survive losing my younger brother, not because it wasn’t horrible, but bad things happen to other families all the time. Now July 25 will be the anniversary of my older brother’s death which was very sudden and very traumatic. I have no siblings now and it is an awful scary and lonely thing to deal with. I only have my mother who is 81, lives far away, and has short term memory. I know that I will now never be the same and neither will she. I wish all of us could have meetings to talk about it because only those of us that have lost siblings are the only ones that understand. My heart goes out to everyone on this site.
I’m so sorry. To lose both of your brothers, and also be dealing with your mom’s health issues. That is too much. Hugs to you.
When my mom called me to let me know that my brother was not well, I got onto a plane from Seattle, USA and made it home, all the way back to the southwest corner of France, in the Basque Country. My brother needed me, I was coming, it will be alright. On Sunday June 11th, 2017, I was with him, listening to him, he was giving me instructions, God knows why! I knew in my mind he’ll be alright, they are giving medication, they are taking care of him. What do I know about morphine?
On Monday June 12th, 2017, they called my mom’s phone number. Why did I pick up the phone, I don’t know. They told me to hurry up. I ran to the hospital. 15 minutes later, I was holding my brother’s hand. I held him for 3 hours, until he got tired dealing with his cancer. My brother David went to sleep, and I was still holding him. 2 weeks later, I am trying to pretend that I am fine with all this, for the sake of my mom. Thank you for your blog.
I’m so sorry. That is a lot. I hope you’re able to find ways to take care of yourself~ it’s such a huge loss. Hugs to you.
Thank you so much for sharing this. Tomorrow will be one year since my younger brother’s death, and a few days before my birthday. There is so little out there for the loss of a sibling, I just don’t understand it. This is just what I needed to read today. I’m so sorry for your loss.
So sorry for your loss of your little brother. Sending out warm thoughts to you during these tough days of the anniversary and your birthday.
Thank you so much for sharing your insights into sibling loss. I’ve struggled with how to deal with this with my two children. Almost 2 1/2 years ago, my middle son was struck by a truck and killed at the age of almost 2. My oldest son was 15 days shy of his 7th birthday at the time, my youngest was 2 months old. I don’t know how to help my oldest, he almost seems unaffected. My youngest, I worry will grow up thinking he is in his brother’s shadow; although I try my hardest to make sure that doesn’t happen. Anyway, thank you for sharing your story and the thoughts you have had and dealt with.
I’m so sorry to hear about the loss of your middle son. I can’t even imagine how hard that must be– to lose your child and then worry about the effects the loss has on your surviving children. Many hugs to you as your family navigates this enormous loss.
My brother died on the 3rd of this month. Thank you for making this site, and writing. It’s so nice to know someone else has survived this, because most of the time lately it feels like I can’t. You are an angel.
Hugs to you, Lauren. It’s so very hard. One moment at a time.
Thank you so much for articulating so well the pain I am feeling. My baby sister passed away last Saturday evening and I am heart-broken. She was 15 years younger than me and in many ways like a daughter. She was only 34 years old and scared of death. I just hope she found peace. I will miss her the rest of my life. I wanted 30-40 more years with her and to grow old together. We lost my mother 2 years ago and now this – Dad is a mess but so am I. Thank you again for your insight into my sadness.
Oh Wendy, I am so sorry– losing your baby sister is such a devastating loss. Many hugs to you.
Thank you for this. I lost my brother, my only sibling, 16 days ago. It was unexpected and I am lost. Your article helped me feel like I am not alone. 🙁
Oh Kate, I’m so sorry. You’re definitely not alone.
Kate, all I can say is feel every pain you are experiencing and know that one day it won’t hurt as much as it does today. I never thought my pain would become less, however 42 years later it has. I’m sending you much love to your heart.
Wow, thank you for expressing how I felt/feel. My only sibling committed suicide 42 yrs ago on 3/31. Not one person ever asked me how I was doing. Everyone focused on my parents. It was without a doubt the darkest day of my life. To the day, my Mother passed away 6 yrs ago, she didn’t believe he did it to himself. She was convinced someone else shot him. I never said anything with regards to the truth. When she died, I buried her ashes in the same grave as his. She spent the rest of her life wanting to be with her beloved son. She never thought about my pain and what I had lost. I never told her, as I saw her pain and she never was the same. My Father finally excepted that his only son committed suicide. For years he never even told his friends or acquaintance he made afterwards, that he even had a daughter, again…neither thought of what I lost. I lost the other half of my reality, the other person that could validate our childhood. After years of therapy and forgiveness to all, and the fact that I am a Mother, I, can forgive both my parents as I don’t know what I, would do or accept if my only child died. There are days that it was like he was just with me. And then, other days it’s like he never existed. I often wonder how he would look at 62 or how many nieces or nephews I would have today. It’s a double edge sword for sure. What I know for sure is that I lived that dark night of my soul. Nothing in my life since has hurt as much or changed me as his passing.
Diane, I’m so sorry about your brother. I relate so much to your words. Sending big love your way.