Showing posts with label loss of a sibling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label loss of a sibling. Show all posts

Friday, June 17, 2016

A Sister Mourns Her Brother

When he died, I lost all connection to planet earth. A window opened between dimensions and I climbed right in.

‘Take me with you,’ I repeated. Over and over and over. It was disorienting and at times completely engulfed me. But it was the only place I wanted to or could be. For months I would drift in and out of this state.

And when you articulate this to friends and family, when you try to give words to these feelings, every alarm rings. Everyone starts to worry. Our culture has nowhere to put these dark feelings and sorrow.

No one tells you this. Not in our American culture anyways.

So now that I’ve made it to the other side, I will.

Each individual mourns differently, but I have now witnessed how many people suppress their grief for fear of upsetting others.

First of all, the urge to ‘die’ isn’t exactly about dying. It’s about holding on to your loved one with all your might, about delaying the separation for as long as humanly possible. It comes from the deepest source of connection a human can feel. From a sense that souls are entwined, like a living whole, and that when one half dies the other simply can’t go on.

It is normal, it is born of love and connection, and it is okay.* You will return to this dimension, feel like you can live again, but not until you’ve seen the depths of that darkness.

The saying that kept me afloat on some of my hardest days was, ‘the depth of your grief is equal to the depth of your love.’ That is exactly how it felt.


No One Tells You About Loss, So I Will by Cora Neumann

Thursday, March 17, 2016

Making Memories and Strengthening Connections in the Last Months of a Sister's Life

From today's Carolyn Hax columns, a sister talks about what she did to make good memories and strengthen connections in the last months of her sister's life, and how that helped her when she was grieving.

My sister’s diagnosis gave her six months to a year, with treatment. She lived 1,200 miles from me, but I decided to give her whatever I could, to make her comfortable and happy. I took unpaid leave to spend a couple weeks at her home. I made her a window-seat cushion that she hadn’t gotten around to making. My husband and I painted her kitchen and hung the five-year-old wallpaper border she had been waiting for her husband to do. I used vacation time to visit again and take her to a Cirque du Soleil performance. She had always wanted to see a Broadway show. My brothers, mother and friends arranged for a flight to NYC, tickets and a hotel. I included her daughter, my daughter and our mother. We had a Mothers/Daughters weekend that brought so much joy to her life.

I miss our daily conversations, her laughter and everything about her. I still cry and feel her loss. But every moment we had together during those last months helps to soften the pain. My sister knew I loved her, and I enjoyed every second of life we shared.