A Letter to My Brother

Dear Brother,

It has been twenty-six years since I’ve heard your voice…seen your smile. It’s just as painful now as the day I found you. It’s been twenty-six years of that memory living fresh in my mind. Trying to wake you. Realizing it was never going to happen. The automatic heart ache that consumed my very being.

Living with that hasn’t been easy. I was angry, confused, grief stricken. My grief did not manifest in a way that was tolerable for others. I couldn’t understand the purpose of losing you, so I lashed out. I pushed people away. No one could fill the void left in my life and in my heart. Our bond was unique and special and you left me here - so often feeling alone. Why did I have to be the one to discover I’d never see you again?

My anger and sadness grew into something I couldn’t control and it began to define me. I didn’t act on those emotions for others to sympathize - I wanted help. I wanted someone to talk to. I needed someone to recognize how badly I was hurting, and how the trauma of finding you affected me. The more time went on, the more I realized the person I needed was you. If you were here, I know you would have seen my pain. Comforted me and eased my sorrow. If you were here, I’d be a very different person.

I tried to keep the all the other good memories in the forefront of my mind - so I wouldn’t become what everyone perceived me to be. But the more alone I felt, the more their perceptions became my reality. It’s taken me twenty-six years to learn this about myself. Twenty-six years to know that although I didn’t grieve properly or traditionally, my grief was exactly that - mine. It was the only way I knew how to deal with losing my best friend at eleven years old. I missed you and you were ripped from the intricate weavings of my life and the only definition of family that I knew. And I hated the world for it.

I’ve hurt people due to my ignorance of coping skills and I want to do better. I guess that’s what this is all about. I’ve learned some things about myself over the past year and I’m trying. But while trying, I also need to be met with understanding not blame for my emotions because regardless of how I feel, it’s still real. And it’s still me. I say all this to you because the majority of my life, you’ve been the easiest to talk to. Probably because I can’t hear your judgement. And even though you are my most reliable sounding board - I’m contemplating finally being able to talk to others who have been through similar experiences. The healing, although slow, may very well be amplified with some empathy.

Bottom line - today sucks. It has always sucked and always will. There’s no other way to put it. In my mind, I relive the most horrible moment of my life every day - but today…today the pain is numbing. I wish you could be here. I wish my kids could experience the amazing uncle you’d have become. I wish every day you were physically here with us. But I have to settle for you living in all our hearts. It’s good enough…for now. But I long for the day to hug you again, give you three knocks on the wall, tell you I love you, and most of all…see your smiling face the next morning.

I miss you more than you could ever know.

Love,

Your Sister