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It seems wherever I go, I encounter someone of my generation who lost a sibling as a young adult or teenager. They always express empathy and sadness for Ross, our surviving son. Just last night at a Christmas party, I talked with two friends who lost brothers in the late 60’s/early 70’s. Their brothers were young adults, just like our Ryan. They always relate to Ross’ pain more than ours but yet have a clearer understanding of the depth of our pain after having watched their own parents suffer. Last week I had lunch with someone who lost his only sibling, a sister, to ovarian cancer years ago. I always ask how their parents coped because I am interested in how others in my shoes bore the unbearable. I usually hear comments such as “They were never the same again” or “They never got over it” or “Not very well – they divorced”. Sometimes I hear tragic tales of suicide or the disastrous effects of self medicating through drugs or alcohol.
It is indeed a life changing, devastating thing for the entire family.

Early in our loss, I read how surviving siblings often feel they lost not only their brother or sister but their parents as well. They lost their sibling to death and their parents to grief. Being cognizant of that possibility, Ron and I tried to hard to continue to be there for Ross. It was a clumsy dance at best. We were trying to make sure he was okay when we were barely hanging on ourselves. At the same time, he was trying to convince us through daily phone conversations that he was okay, when in reality he was far from okay, because he was worried about adding more angst to our lives. Today, 2 ½ years later, all three of us are better. We are forever changed- completely different people than we would be today had we not lost our son and brother. Earlier tonight Ross and I were talking about Ryan and how much we miss him. Ross told me he feels like he (Ross) is the reason I didn’t kill myself after Ryan died. And then he thanked me for not following through on my suicidal fantasies in my darkest days. It made me sad to think how scared he must have been to see his parents so fragile and out of control.

I’m grateful for the stability and strength we have regained through the healing power of time.