Understanding sibling loss

I swear I never intended this blog to be a dissertation on grief. In fact, when I look back on the first 8-9 months worth of posts, most are lighthearted or thoughtful pieces about life in general. But in many ways, this blog has been a reflection of my present moment and there have been alot of entries that have helped me navigate, process and walk through this thing called my life. I have had moments of vulnerability, anger and peace through the process. But the most rewarding part has been the feedback I have gotten from others; sincere thank you's that I have at times given a voice to what so many of us feel but can't say outloud. That is why I continue to do it.

So when I got the phone call this weekend from my youngest sister telling me that a family friend had passed away suddenly, at 46, I found myself living the surreal life. Bill was one of 7 siblings to our 6. Our families have been intertwined for as long as I can remember. There are multiple entanglements between our families starting back when we were all very young. They were the Hatfields to our McCoys. I know no other way to explain it. We all grew up in Chadds Ford. Old time, middle class Chadds Ford to working class parents. We both lost our fathers very young and it changed who we were as individuals and families. We loved and fought fiercely with our siblings; much to our mothers despair. After their mother fell ill with cancer, my mother felt a deep responsibility towards "those children" (though they were not actual children), many of whom she barely knew. I think we all knew, on some level, we were stuck with each other. Whether we liked it or not.

I will be honest. I did not know Bill well. But I have had long term relationships with 3 of his siblings. Bill was at my brother's funeral. He was at my mother's funeral. He loved my family. He loved his family. And that's really all I needed to know.

So in the chaos of Sunday afternoon, I stood and watched a family in grief. A grief that I truly understood. Because I had been there. I can remember feeling so incredibly alone in my grief for my brother. Because I knew no one who had gone through what I had been through. And here I was standing there, knowing exactly the depth of pain they were feeling. And that was hard to watch. Because I know how alone they feel. And I know the only way out is through it.

I have had a deep desire to physically remove the pain from each of them. As if there is something; anything I can do to take away one ounce of the hurt. There is nothing I can do. Other than tell them what I have learned in the process of losing my own brother. And this is what I learned.

-Let go of the guilt. We do not live our lives believing we will die. We live believing we will live so we say and do everything from that place. And it's okay. That's what makes life real and full.

-Know that you have done and said enough. Because you have. For every fight you had, you had another moment of laughter and joy. You did crazy shit. You have stories. He has a legacy.

-Laugh sooner rather than later. It is so easy to feel like a single moment of joy is a betrayal in the early days of your grief. But laughing is part of the grief. It's the good part.

-The loss of a sibling is one of the hardest you will ever endure. You know each others histories in a way your parents, children and spouses will never know. It is probably the most sacred of all of the relationships you will ever have. Remember that, and you will forgive yourself for feeling a pain that society doesn't really acknowledge.

-Grieve. Don't let anyone tell you when you should be done. This is probably the single most important lesson I have learned and I still struggle with it every day.