Surviving Sibling Loss

An Interview with Jean Reagan, author of "Always my Brother".  A helpful insight on sibling loss and their journey.

• The hardest part was that she became an only child.  All of a sudden her buddy and “peer” within our family disappeared.  I wonder if sometimes she felt like we were a married couple with an extra person tacked on.  I don’t think that’s true much anymore, because for the most part, we have re-formed as a new family-of-three.  In ALWAYS MY BROTHER, I show how the family felt like a “three-legged dog.”  Just like three-legged dogs in real life, they eventually live life fully although never again as a four-legged dog.

• One thing that was very helpful for her was having a friend who had also lost her sole sibling several years before.  Even when they didn’t talk about it, they were aware of their shared loss. 
• What was hard was that many well-meaning people asked how her parents were doing with the loss, but not how she was doing.  Unconsciously they were discounting her devastation.  Young people generally don’t have much experience with loss, so their ability to understand and empathize is perhaps more limited than my adult friends.

• My husband and I tried to create times when we were with Jane alone.  The two of them went on a long Europe trip together, and Jane and I went on shorter trips together.  On these trips, the absence of John wasn’t so thoroughly front and center. 
• Also, I generally tried not to fall apart emotionally with her around.  She had enough to deal with without also having to handle my grief.  Yes, I freely talked about my difficulties with her so she would know we’re all pained by this and that we’re all in this together.     

• What’s so hard is that both opposites are true.  You want friends to treat you exactly as they did before and not to walk on eggshells around you.  Yet, you also want everyone to acknowledge how everything has totally changed for you.  Sometimes a simple gesture (a nod with a smile) can convey a depth of empathy.  Casual mentions of memories about the person who has died can be helpful, too.

• Some teachers wrote short letters to her and mailed them to the house.  That was a wonderful way for teachers to reach out without causing a scene at school.  Jane could read the letters when (and as often as) she wanted.   

• Being surrounded by people who loved and admired John has been very helpful.  Even four years later, our friends and family comfortably and casually will mention his name in reference to a memory. 
• I found attending Compassionate Friends (www.compassionatefriends.com) gatherings to be very helpful.  Even anticipating a meeting offered a peaceful sense.            
• Also my husband and I continued to go to the therapist who had helped us during John’s difficult time with addiction.  This therapist told us we needed to be “gentle with ourselve s and gentle with each other.”  That was very helpful advice. 
• The three of us did little things to keep John present in our daily lives.  Jane and I wore bracelets.  We changed our “pin” number to a number representative of John.  Our computer screen saver was a photo of John. 

• Peter knows that John would be devastated to witness the pain he has inadvertently created for the three of us.  Therefore, Peter philosophizes that it should be our goal (to the extent that we are able) to grab life and live it, so that we minimize the suffering caused by John’s death.  This desire helps us move forward and seize opportunities, even when we’re feeling down. 
• As a college professor, he has re-doubled his effort to help students in need as a way to honor John’s memory.  If students are stressed or struggling, he’s always there for them. 

• Make a commitment to do things (no matter how minor) to honor the memory of the loved one you lost.
• Everyone needs to know there is no wrong or right way to grieve.  My husband has not yet been able go fishing; because that was something he shared with John.  And, he has decided not to read ALWAYS MY BROTHER because it would be too painful for him.  We all do what we can and don’t do what we can’t.  Peter wrote John’s obituary, something I could not have done.    We have to honor the difference in each other.  

• This is a tough question for parents, as well.  Sometimes you don’t want to “drop the bomb” about a lost loved one when a conversation is meant to be light-hearted and casual.  Yet, you don’t want to back yourself into a corner or feel dishonest (or disloyal).  I answer differently depending on the circumstance.  If it’s a super casual, temporary relationship, I just say, “I only have one child.”  If it’s the beginning of a real connection with someone, I may go ahead and say, “I have one child living, and I lost my son four years ago.”  (By the way, in the Nepal where childhood deaths are common, people usually ask, “How many children do you have, living and dead?”)

• We found that many of our family traditions were hard to repeat, because John’s absence was all-consuming.  So we tried to shift our traditions slightly.  The first two Christmases we joined another family, even spending the night at their house.  For the first Mother’s Day, we chose a restaurant we had never been to.  We went on trips to new places.  The newness in these traditions helped normalize our new family of three.  When we did revisit places we had been as a foursome, sometimes it was helpful to not have other people along with us.  Then we weren’t distracted away from the emotional journey we were walking together.  We could talk or not talk, but we shared the experience of loss, even as we shared the happy memories of earlier times.

• Time does offer some relief to the paralyzing, gripping pain.  Although the loss continues forever, we have readjusted in many ways to a family of three. 
• I grieved by writing in a journal and by eventually writing ALWAYS MY BROTHER.  I also read grief books and grief sites.  Being with friends allowed me to grieve by talking and sharing. 
• Peter grieves by re-doubling his commitment to help others and by talking with me.
• Jane, as an artistic person, grieved by making collages and art inspired by John’s memory.  As an outdoors person, she takes on wilderness challenges in his memory.

• For the anniversary of John’s death, the three of us like to be together.  The first year we had a gathering at our house and distributed tulip bulbs to everyone.  Each spring friends tell us, “John’s tulips are blooming.”
• Now we like to spend the anniversary with just the three of us.  Jane is away at college, so we either fly there or she comes home.  We generally go on walks together, but we don’t necessarily talk about John any more than we always do.  If we’re home together, we walk to John’s memorial bench at our neighborhood park where the kids learned to swim, ride bikes, and play tennis.  The plaque appropriately reads, “Power to the Peaceful.”
• John’s birthday is in the summer.  Jane has traditionally gone on a backpacking trip by herself, and Peter and I do a major hike together.  But, this past summer I had an opportunity to go backpacking with a friend and the timing conflicted with John’s birthday.  After much deliberation on my part, I chose to go.  I decided John would have wanted me to embrace life’s opportunities in his honor rather than turn them down because of him.  He would have been proud of his mom for backpacking through terrain he had enjoyed when he was a young teenager. 

• As long as we keep his memory alive in our lives, we can feel his presence.  John, through his example, helped me be a better person.  I want to hang on to the positive impact he has had on my life.  And in the years ahead, I hope the pain of losing him will give way to the joy of having had him in our life as long as we did.  As Dr. Seuss said, “Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.”  I smile everyday because John happened in my life.

This interview was conducted from griefspeaks.com and you can read additional information about Jean Reagan's story at her website http://jeanreagan.com/story_behind.htm