I lost my beloved brother 8 months and 1 day ago. This is a list of thoughts that sometimes help me when I feel lost in a sea of thoughts that torture and horrify me.
A word of caution: I did not include details, but I am sharing some general thoughts related to his death and remains. Please be careful with yourself.
- When my brother was 19, I spent my first night on the phone with him, trying to talk him down from a suicidal episode. I’m grateful that he called me that night, and that he lived nearly 20 more years, many of them very, very good.
- He died quickly, and from what I understand from the coroner, he did not suffer much, if any, physical pain in his death. That gives me some peace.
- I’m grateful that the representative from the coroner’s office was compassionate.
- The funeral home director was very supportive and compassionate too, and I will never forget how her presence and communication anchored me in the bewildering pain and protectiveness I felt over what I had left of my brother. I felt safe to ask questions and express my concerns and worries.
- I’m grateful that he was an active participant in his own mental health treatment, and that we at least have the peace of knowing that he tried years of medications, counseling, and other interventions. I feel that saved us from at least some of the “what ifs,” and I’m grateful for that. Even though none of it saved his life, some of it extended his life.
- I’m grateful to the medical providers and counselors who did their best to help him.
- I’m grateful for his wife, who stood beside him through years of his battle with depression, anxiety, and even a traumatic manic episode a year before he died.
- I’m grateful that we didn’t lose him the day of his traumatic, manic episode, that we had the chance to hold him again, and tell him how much we loved him, that we had the chance to fight for his life, even though we ultimately lost that fight.
- I’m grateful for everyone who speaks his name.
- I’m grateful for the years of voicemails from him that I never deleted, especially the one from a few years ago, when he was in a good chapter, where he tells me, “Happy Birthday” and “I love you,” and shares that he left pastries on the table for me.
- I’m grateful that I am still able to go to work, pay the bills, and show up for my child, even though my heart is shattered. It just didn’t seem possible at first.
- I’m grateful that I can still notice when it’s a beautiful day, even when I know he’s not here to see it.
- I’m grateful for my SOLOS group (Survivors of Loved One’s Suicide) and for this community of people who are ready with support.
These are such paltry silver linings in a dark new version of my life, but I am holding on.
