When I was 20 years old, I was awakened in the middle of the night to the terrible news that my only brother, Scott, and my cousin, Matthew, had been killed together in a car accident.
It seemed inconceivable that my 17-year-old-brother was dead. My brother, whom I had grown up with, shared a history with and expected to grow old with, was suddenly gone forever from my life. Scott had unruly blond curls and bright green eyes. He was very athletic, devoured Twix candy bars, chewed cinnamon gum, was a NY Jets fan, and loved playing jokes. I envisioned us attending each other’s college graduations and weddings, raising our kids together, and growing old together.
Scott’s death turned my world upside down and put into question everything I ever believed. Early on the pain was so great, I honestly thought I would die of a broken heart. People said things to me that were not helpful: “Well, at least he didn’t suffer,” “At least it was quick,” and “At least you have sisters.”
As I struggled through my own grief, I also worried a lot about my parents and felt the need to “be strong” for them. I often hid my grief from them, and grieved alone, so as not to cause them further pain. I felt guilty for having my own grief because my parents had lost a child.
As I went through my grief journey, I looked to others further along in the grief process for guidance and strength. The journey was bumpy; I had no roadmap. Grief came in choppy, unpredictable waves, not neat, organized stages. Well-meaning people told me that I would eventually get over it, and find closure. These concepts were not comforting and did not make sense.
I didn’t want to “get over” Scott. To “get over” him felt somehow like I was erasing him from my life. I am the person I am today because Scott was in my life. To deny him would be to deny an important part of myself. The reality is that we don’t forget, move on, and have closure; but rather we honor, remember, and incorporate our deceased brother and sister into our lives in a new way.
With time and support, I went on to transform my life and create a “new normal.” I have found meaning, purpose, and joy helping others who have suffered a loss, and I have met many wonderful and caring people through The Compassionate Friends. Today, I keep my brother’s memory alive through the stories I share with others. Although it has been 30 years, my brother continues to live forever in my heart. He is my guiding light, and although I am poorer for having lost him, I am so much richer forever having known him. He will always play an important role in my life, and he remains forever my brother.
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I recently loss my sister. Thank you for writing this. It is beautiful.
Thank you for this article. My older son passed in 94, at almost 24 years old., and while my younger son and I can talk about him, and the things they did as kids, etc., we have yet to be able to talk about the time of losing him. Even after all these years, it just hasn’t happened, and I don’t know if it ever will. I know it had a serious impact on my son, and thank goodness he has shared his feelings with the wonderful woman he married-and some friends, but I so with we could talk about it.
Beautiful and very meaningful article, Heidi.
I can relate to almost every detail in your story. I too lost my brother, Robert, in 1988, 31 years ago. I was 18 and a freshman in college when I got the call that he had been in an automobile accident. My world as I knew it was changed forever and so many hopes and dreams of our future together were lost. He was my best friend and it broke my heart to lose him. I still morn the loss today.
I am married with three children of my own. The reality that this can happen to one of my children is a constant fear. I totally agree with your statement that I am poorer for having lost him but richer for having known him.
This is such a great reminder of the grief siblings experience and the pressure to be strong for others. Thank you for writing this. You remind me of another good friend who lost a brother many years ago. She, like you, holds the spirit of her brother John alive in her heart by expressing her love for him openly and continually. XXOXOX
Inspiring. Thank you.
I was a hospice nurse for over 20 years. I can’t even tell some of the hurtful things I hear said to someone whose loved one had just died. From a minister, “Don’t cry too much”. From a sibling,”you are lucky; you have other siblings”. Most of the time what is said is just because the person lacks the knowledge and understanding of grief. When I was training new nurses (in the hospice field) I had a paper with “What To Say” and What not to say” that addressed this.
Wow , my son’s name is Scott . He died almost 10 years ago. I also have a daughter named Heidi. When I read your article, it was almost like reading something Heidi could have written. Thank you for sharing
Blessings Patt Elzinga
Beautiful article. It’s been 30 years since my son died. Now I better understand what my daughter went through. I was so lost in my grief I couldn’t even consider someone else’s.
Thank you
Beautifully written , so meaningful, I love the last line, we are all poorer for having lost our loved ones but so much richer for having them in our lives. I lost my daughter Stephanie unexpectedly 15 years ago, she was 28 years old and had an undetected heart condition. My son was 31 and I feel like he was truly the forgotten one in the grieving process. It is comforting to know that the siblings are being recognized💜
Beautifully written Heidi. I lost a sister to breast cancer and 3 years later lost my son to heart disease. Compassionate friends has helped me walk this road we didn’t want or expect to travel.
Sad story … so familiar …… and the often brainless comments people can make , when they believe they are ‘ helping ‘
thank You for your share, much like you I sure people would like for me to move on and get over my twin brother”s loss and its just too hard for me to do, I can only say it’s been five years now and I’m still trying find comfort and a positive support group, i will keep looking because i believe it will me, family isn’t much of a support system for me so this makes me upset, but all I can do is, continue to pray everyday and fight to stay strong mentally so I can be a healthy woman
Thank you for this, every part of it was true for me unfortunately. Our one year old daughter died almost three years ago and it is still unbearable. She died suddenly and unexpectedly after the hospital had told us she was doing well (she had congenital liver defects). The pain never changes, but at least the shock lessens and your mind finds ways of coping with the pain as you get used to it and start to accept that your worst nightmare has happened and you will hold, bathe, read to, see your baby again, as well as all of the future plans you had being ripped away from you. Other people try to understand but can’t (luckily for them it’s beyond their imagination to live this hell permanently) so they behave like they’re bored you’re ‘still’ talking about her, or they say things to help you to ‘get over it’. Don’t get me wrong, I say those to my husband (“At least she wasn’t taken and murdered”, ‘At least we were with her and the paramedics arrived quickly”) but I don’t feel they have the right to try to get me to cheer up, I want them to just be there while I talk and cry. We all have one or two of those friends, hopefully.