Grief and Family

People who have known me for any significant time know that I am a very family-focused person. I organized family reunions for years. I put together rosters of all my different family lines and sent them out to first, second, and third cousins. My dad taught me the importance of family, and when he died I realized the torch had passed to me, and I was happy to carry it.

I think embracing family is truly crucial to being an emotionally healthy person.

However, not everyone would agree. 

When I was notified exactly two months ago that my brother had died, I was devastated. 

Even though he had distanced himself from me and Michael the last few years of his life, I still knew that he had my back if I needed him.  He was fighting demons related to being a veteran struggling with PTSD and addiction. I prayed for him, worried about him, and never stopped wanting him to find his peace, despite our differences.

The day I learned of his death, my nearest and dearest friends and family members called me. I got more than 15 calls that day, and several more the next day. 

A few days later, I got the two flower arrangements you see below. The white ones were from one of my first cousins. The other arrangement was from my work colleagues. Those flowers touched my heart deeply. Having something beautiful to look at for more than a week helped my heart to heal. 

Other friends and family members sent condolence notes, emails, called me, and/or sent cards.  Their love and care got me through a very difficult time.

My healing journey is ongoing. Only in the last week or so has the daily crying stopped.

Not everyone responded, however. I didn't hear a word -- not even an email -- from three of my first cousins. That hurt. Anyone who knows me at all knows that I loved my brother, despite his sometimes prickly personality.

Bruce's death leaves a gap in my life. I spent years as a caretaker for my mother, a physically and emotionally exhausting experience that was sometimes overwhelming. My brother had my back, even though he lived almost 4 hours away. He drove over and helped me countless times. 

My brother was a flawed person. He had his faults -- just like we all do. He was not interested in family reunions or even in staying in touch with first cousins. However, he also never had a cross word with the cousins who ignored my grief. Even if he had, that doesn't excuse their lack of caring for me. All families squabble. It's just part of the experience. 

I struggle to forgive my three cousins who ignored my grief. Dead people don't need propping up. Those who are left need compassion, though.

Despite all my pain, God is a daily presence in my life. Consolation is always available to those who believe.  

My daily crying stopped recently because I saw my brother again. I had a vivid dream, and he was there, just hanging out with me and my son. He looked young and healthy and handsome. He was relaxed and jovial -- the way he was many times when we were young. 

I woke up feeling the heavy ache of grief had gotten lighter. I was reminded that death is just a doorway. My brother is on the other side, with my parents and grandparents, and all those who have gone before.  I look forward to seeing them one day, but I will not shy away from loving my family members still on earth. We all fight private battles, and the only way to get through them is to love each other with energy and intention.