Grief

This year my brother would have turned 19.  Would have.  Twelve months ago he died in a car accident.  Two months prior to this, my aunt died in a car accident.  Two months after burying my brother we buried my grandfather as well.  Grief over the loss of his daughter and his grandson destroyed his desire to live.  I miss my aunt and my grandfather, but with my brother things have been different.

I loved my grandfather very much and he loved me just as much.  He called me his favorite granddaughter (I was the only one until my sister was born 13 years after me).  He overcame his fear of flying to visit me when I was only a few months old.  It was his only plane flight.  He addressed his first (and only?) email to me.  He was always so glad to see me and told me to "be good" and "stay away from boys".  Every now and then in my busy life I would ring him up and we would chat on the phone.  I loved him and didn't want him to die.  He died slowly over a number of weeks and I was able to speak to him, to be with him, to say goodbye.  I wept at his funeral.  I missed him.  Yet my grief over the death of my grandfather was eclipsed by the grief over my brother's death.  It wasn't long before I adjusted to the absence of my grandfather and was able to enjoy my memories of his life rather than be overcome by the grief of his death.  It was not so with my brother.

I didn't get to say goodbye to my brother.  His death was sudden, unexpected, unforeseen.  I didn't even get to be with him while he lay unconscious in hospital because I was stuck, locked down in another state.  I couldn't even be with my family in person.  I had to rely on FaceTime.  It wasn't until I had spent a week trying to get permission to cross the border and two weeks in hotel quarantine, that I was reunited with my family.  The grief was incredibly intense and enduring.  It is only now, almost a year later, that I am able to grasp the fact that he really is gone.  The shock has worn off (I think) but the grief remains.  Slowly it becomes easier to bear with the passing of time.  It is no longer all encompassing but it is no less painful.  I am learning to live with my grief.

We are told that everyone experiences grief differently.  It is also true that we grieve different losses differently.  It was easier for me to part with my grandfather because he was old.  He had lived to see his kids grow up and some of his grandkids grow up too.  It was also easier because I saw it coming, I was able to say goodbye, and I was able to begin grieving when he was still alive.  None of this was true for my brother.  And my aunt?  That was hard too, only made easier by the fact that I had never spent a lot of time with her.  Regardless to say, the shock of her death was still very hard for me to handle and I can't imagine how hard it must be for her husband.  

Why am I sharing this with you all?  Because I have had numerous people who have indicated by words and/or actions that they understand the pain that I and my family are experiencing.  The fact is: You don't.  Don't pretend that you do.  Only those who have unexpectedly lost a sibling or child (or parent if the parent is young) can begin to understand.  Before I experienced this, I had no idea how painful it could be.  And that wasn't because I hadn't experienced the death of family members before.  The death of a grandfather is very different to the death of a brother.  

What do we need?  We need your love and empathetic, listening ears.  We can do without judgment and trite answers which only add to our pain.  Are you at a loss to know what to say to someone who is grieving?  In my next post I will share some comments that I have received which have helped me in my grief.