Death of a Sibling

 Young people aren’t supposed to die.  They are expected to live long and happy lives.  How then, could this happen?

 You may receive little or no support from the adults in your life. Your parents may be the focus of everyone’s attention.  Neighbors meet you coming home from school and ask how your mom or dad is doing.  Don’t they know that you, too, are suffering?

 You may recall the arguments and fights you had with your sister or brother and wonder if this is how you are being punished.

You might feel cheated that you no longer have a brother or sister.  Someone asks, “How many brothers or sisters are in your family?”  How are you supposed to answer?  If you are now the only child, are you still a brother or sister? Part of your identity has been wiped away.

Since one child has died, your parents may become afraid that something may happen to you as well.  You may feel smothered by their over protectiveness.  Understand their anxiety.  Discuss their fears.  Try to work out your need for reasonable freedom.

Some may unfairly compare you to the sibling who died.  “She did so well in school.”  (Are you now expected to become a better student?)  “He was a great athlete.” (Are you  a failure if you don’t make the team?)  But just as you will never take the place of the sister or brother who died, NO ONE CAN TAKE YOUR PLACE.  Just be you. You may now want to become closer  to your family members.  They, perhaps more than anyone will understand what the loss means to you.  Know that others have experienced the death of a brother or sister.  They, too, had to struggle through feelings like yours.  They have survived.  You will too.

Excerpt from: Straight talk about death for Teenagers

by Earl A. Grollman

This and other books for children and teens are in our library, at the office.

   

SIBLINGS THOUGHTS & FEELINGS

He is gone

And he’s never coming back

I hope he knows

How much he’s missed

He touched so many people

They loved him too

But they have no idea

What I’m going through.

I cover up my feelings

As much as I can

Nobody has to know

The pain I have inside

Sometime’s I just can’t hold back

My feelings of loneliness and despair

I love him so much

This world is not fair.

Why Him?

He was such a good brother

I still don’t understand

Why it happened to him

I can’t handle these feelings

They have become too much

I just want to be with him

Am I asking too much?

I love him I always will

But one day we’ll be together - forever.

 

Selina Lepinski, TCF/Winnipeg

 

 

Please Don't Discount Sibling Grief

I have come to think of sibling grief as “Discount Grief.” Why? Because siblings appear to be an emotional bargain in most people’s eyes. People worry so much about the bereaved parents that they invest very little attention in the grieving sibling.

My personal “favorite” comforting line said to siblings is “you be sure and take care of your parents’. I wanted to know who was supposed to take care of me...I knew I couldn’t.

The grief of a sibling may differ from that of a parent, but it ought not be discounted. People need to realize that while it is obviously painful for parents to have lost a child, it is also painful for the sibling, who has not only lost a sister or brother, but an irreplaceable friend.

While dealing with this double loss, he or she must confront yet another factor: The loss of a brother or sister is frequently the surviving sibling’s first experience with the death of any young person. Young people feel they will live forever. A strong dose of mortality in the form of a sibling is very hard to take.

The feelings of the siblings are also often discounted when decisions are being made....on things ranging from funeral plans to flower selections. Parents need to listen to surviving siblings who usually know a lot about the tastes and preferences of the deceased.

Drawing on the knowledge that surviving siblings have about supposedly trivial things...such as favorite clothes or music...can serve two purposes when planning funeral or memorial services. First, their input helps ensure that the deceased receives the type of service he or she would have liked. Second, their inclusion in the planning lets them know they are still an important part of the family.

I realize that people are unaware that they are discounting sibling grief. But then, that’s why I’m writing this...so people will know.

Jane Machado TCF Tuland CA

 

SIBLING LOSS:

CHANGES IN THE FAMILY

By Karen Gibson

My sixteen -year-old brother, Craig, died in 1985. He had no lingering illness; it was sudden. Though his death was not expected, there is a part of me that was not surprised.

Because he was my youngest brother, I was old enough to remember when he was born. I helped take care of him; he was even my first baby-sitting job. But I had moved away from home before he began to grow into young adulthood. In my mind, he always was—and always will be—a child.

I don’t know what it’s like to lose a child. As a social worker, I have seen grief, but I have never been a parent who has lost a child. I imagine it must be the most horrible loss one could experience. It threatens traditional beliefs that the old die before the young, parents before children.

I watched my parents go through the normal stages of grieving; denial, anger, guilt, depression and acceptance. They’re still working on the acceptance stage. I understand it can take parents years to complete this cycle.

I’ve observed some interesting parental reactions such as their trying to make sense of their son’s death by turning to books and religion.

I realize now that because he died, Craig will always be their “favorite” child. Often parents deny having a favorite, but it happens and it is normal. One child may be a favorite because he is the oldest., another because she is the most like one of her parents. At different times, different children will be favorites. But the death of a child can make that child the favorite. I would like to deny that this bothered me when I first realized it, but I can’t. Finally, I understood that if Craig had become their favorite child, it did not change their feelings for me. They still love me as much as they ever did.

I always thought of my father as the man in control who knew what to expect and how to take care of everything. I’ve seen a vulnerability in him the past three years. He probably would hate to be told that, but I think it makes him more human, loving and affectionate.

My mother has been the amazing one. Even while grieving herself, she took care of my father, another brother and me. She took care of a terminally ill mother-in-law all by herself, too. The strength in this woman I’ve known all my life never ceases to amaze me. And I see the woman I want to be in twenty years.

I have not seen much written on what a sibling experiences when a brother or sister dies. Some siblings may not have seen each other for years at a time. I felt—guilty for not spending much time with Craig after I moved away from home; for never having much time even when I was at home because seeing my friends was a priority. These are things I can’t change, and as time passes, I begin to remember more of the good times.

Birth order plays a part in our personalities and how we react to situations. I am the oldest and only female of three children, Craig was the youngest. Though I love my other brother, Craig was always special—maybe because he was the baby and I looked at him maternally.

The decision to have my own baby was difficult because I know how people tend to “replace” loved ones. I stubbornly resisted the idea that my child would be another Craig—for me or anyone else. Perhaps I was afraid that I would lose my child, also. I now know there is only one Craig.

In our family there’s not much talking about Craig these days, though his picture can be found all over my parents’ home along with other family pictures. I believe my mother has some things she still needs to say, but she must be allowed to do that in her own time.

The anniversaries are the hardest. Craig would have had three birthdays since he died. The first year we all talked, but now no one mentions it much. We each remember it in our way. My way is by making a donation to an organization which helps children. Thus far I have given money to Special Olympics, Save the Children and UNICEF.

Of course, the anniversary of his death is even harder. None of us wants to recognize the date, but we do. It’s a hard time for me, but it’s getting easier. The first year, I called my mother, but I’ve avoided doing so since—afraid of making things worse.

This past year, a cousin was hospitalized the day before that anniversary date, so my mother and I ended up talking on that day anyway. The cousin happened to be a year younger than Craig would have been. In the middle of our conversation, my mother began crying and soon hung up the telephone. I felt helpless.

The next day, I bought a sympathy card (blank on the inside) and wrote how I felt. I wrote about missing Craig, about wanting to be able to do something, and about how much I love my mother. Not only did sharing this make me feel better, it brought me closer to my mother.

Bereavement Magazine Inc.

8133 Telegraph Drive

Colorado Springs, Colorado 80920-7169

(719) 282-1948 Fax (719)282-18500

 

September 199? Issue

TCF/SWMB Chapter April 1996

-Lovingly Lifted from Atlanta Chapter Sept. ‘95

 

 

Just for Kids:

Returning to School after a Loss

·        by Jackie Kettler and Art Kirsh

Reprinted from STAGES, spring 1997

Someone you love has died or is gone from your life. You feel strange, like someone came behind you and pushed you into deep water: nothing is normal. Sometimes you feel like you’re drowning in your own emotions, and they come fast – one minute you’re angry, the next, crying – but always unable to shake a deep heavy sadness. Your stomach may be queasy, churning or pained; you may be nervous and jittery, or so calm you feel numb. You may be tired all the time, like being sick, or so full of thoughts and energy you can’t sleep at all.

This is grief and we all go through it – because to love and lose is part of life.

No two people experience grief exactly the same, so, in your family or family of friends, it’s quite possible for one person to be bitter and yelling, another to be quiet and isolated, and for another to avoid the whole thing and try to leave. The whole mess gets really complicated if one member is alcoholic or abusive.

Now it’s time to return to school. How do you handle all this and school, too?

It’s an old saying, but the answer is "one little step at a time." If you stuff a whole candy bar in your month, your cheeks puff out, you slobber when you try to talk, and you look stupid. Just like with the candy bar, learn to take just one bite at a time. You decide how big. Set your own pace, and don’t bite off more than you can chew.

Okay, here are some real problems for you or a friend coming back to school after a loss. Later on, we’ll talk about a few suggestions for feeling healthy again.

The good news about school is that:

It keeps you busy, puts structure in your life, and keeps it normal.

It forces you to be with people, and among them are some healthy, happy ones. Find them. You need them, and they can stand you.

If offers knowledge; in fact, it tries to push it into your head.

What’s good about this is that:

·        it helps you put other things in your head besides your grief, and

·        the knowledge you take in now becomes the building blocks you use to build a positive future.

The bad news about school is:

There are a ton of escapes and quick fixes: socializing, getting into trouble, drugs, etc.

It’s noisy when you might crave quiet.

It’s a hassle and it’s stressful: assignments, schedules, etc.

Young people express the problems of returning to school after a loss like this:

·       I don’t want to go; people will stare at me."

The same people who thought you were cute still think you’re cute; the people who think you’re a slug will still treat you the same. Life is normal here, even though something has happened to make you feel "weird". Some will look at you strangely. They may be afraid this will happen to them.

·        "My friends avoid me, turn away, and pretend they don’t see me. They’re faking it – like nothing happened – and spreading rumors."

You’re not the only one who wants this to be over. Your friends are afraid for you, and afraid to hurt you by asking. Maybe they don’t know the facts, and by guessing are "spreading rumors". You can help. This is like the person in a wheelchair with an obvious handicap that has to be the one to reach out and make others comfortable. You do, too. Say "Hi." Speak the truth" "My brother died, but I didn’t. I still need friends." This will let them know it’s okay to talk about your brother, and that it won’t upset you if they do. It will also stop the rumors that hurt.

·        "I don’t want to answer all the snoopy questions."

Expect to be irritable and stressed out. You can tell when questions are snoopy and when they come from honest concern. If you feel grumpy, say so. Thank a friend or well-meaning teacher for asking, and suggest another time to talk. If, at some time, you’re in the role of the friend to someone in grief, remember what it was like for you. Be ready for their moodiness, and don’t take any of it personally. Ask again another time. You know what it’s like to be grumpy and nasty, but still need someone to care about you.

 

4. "I can’t concentrate or think straight, I’m failing."

It’s normal to have weird dreams or nightmares, and thoughts that interrupt your schoolwork. It’s normal to eat more, or not feel like eating at all, to cry at strange times, or to feel completely out of balance. It’s shock you’re experiencing, and this is how it feels for a while.

Try to keep things simple, at first. Tell your physics teacher: "Mr. Jones, my brother died. I’m here, but I’m having trouble thinking straight." Most teachers will give you a break. You may have to settle for less than good or perfect grades for a while. Don’t worry. It will get better. If a teacher seems unreasonable or give you a hard time, go straight to your counselor or principal. It’s their job to support you during this time.

5. "I feel like quitting and just getting a job, or like getting high all the time."

When you lose someone, what you feel like doing is the opposite of what is good for you. You need to be around people. Stay in school, take homework one step at a time, stay in sports or clubs to keep busy. Stay away from drugs and alcohol. They are temporary highs with long-term lows.

·        "I feel so guilty, like it’s my fault, or like I should have done something."

People often feel this way after a death. It’s the "would’ve, could’ve, should’ve" syndrome. In your head it sounds like: "if only I had done this, then that wouldn’t have happened." Even with a completed suicide, it’s not your fault. You may regret some of your behavior as a brother, daughter, friend or lover, but another’s suicide is never your fault. If you think others blame you, the pain feels even worse. But, since no guilt or self-blame with change the fact that someone you love is gone, don’t torture yourself this way! Talk it out with people whose opinions you respect: "reality test" these thoughts.

·        "I just want to die."

Talk about this one with people you trust: a parent or relative, friend, counselor, teacher, minister, or priest. It is much more scary to think "crazy" thoughts like this, and keep it to yourself than to talk about it with others. At times, we all wonder about death and what it is like. the thing is, death can’t be undone. Good things happened to you before, and good things will happen again. It is because you miss the good things about someone that you think it would be easier to stop living. What about keeping those good memories alive? "Hey, remember when we used to…?" A 16-year-old girl I know makes a special box for each person in her life she has lost. She fills it with notes, dance decorations, music tapes, sport schedules, even some dirt from the grave. Whenever she wants to remember someone, she takes down the box.

·        "How long will I feel this way?"

Everyone is different. The grief period takes longer than you may think, and things are never going to be exactly the same as they were. Next year there will be a birthday or a holiday or anniversary, and the feelings of loss will come back – sometimes as strong. You need to know that after a while, it does get easier. Somehow, it’s good we don’t forget so easily. That means people we love won’t forget us either, and that life has real meaning.

So, where do you go from here? Here are some suggestions to help you work through grief.

·        Write down your thoughts. The more you keep stuff in your head, the bigger the stuff gets. You’ll be surprised just how much putting the stuff on paper gets it out of your head.

·        Exercise every day. Your body is young, but stress and loss can turn you into a slug in no time, and, as a coping skill, that stinks! So, walk, ride, run, play – move and work up a sweat.

·        Cry. Did you know tears are healthy? They are like perspiration; they even flush toxic substances out of the body that our natural reaction to the loss put there.

·        Eat healthy. When you’re hurting it’s easier to get sick. Skip the extra fries or sugar and pick up fruit, veggies (veggie pizza is great!), and juice. Offer to go to the store or help fix the meal. Be ready for strange looks from your parents – "Are you really my child?"

·        Talk a lot. Find a good listener – someone who is not going to judge what you say. Find more than one, because, when we’re hurting, we’re hard to be around – and remember this, when you are lending an ear to a family member or friend who has lost someone. Tell them when you’ve had enough for a while.

Make a "Memory Book." Jot down a few things that stand out about the person who died…a funniest moment; a good story, the time that you helped; an incident that made you laugh; an incident that

·        made you mad; things that you will miss most; and things you will not miss.

·        Commemorate the life once lived. Do something that honors the life of the person that died, such as collecting a box of old clothes for a homeless shelter and donating in their name; name a star after them; make a video of friends and family talking about their best memories.

·        It’s not being weak to ask for help. In fact, it takes courage and strength to know when you’re overwhelmed. This is tough, but if your concentration is really bad, consider changing your course schedule to lighten the load, or check for a tutor or an extra study hall. And remember: what looks like failure can be a gift in disguise. You will finish what needs to be done – one step at a time.

·        You can’t hurry grief. It takes as long as it takes. Be with your family as much as with friends. Think of ways to just be there: suggest a walk, offer to do the dishes (who, me?). It’s amazing, but when you reach out to someone else, you help yourself. HINT: Pick the person in your family you’ve been avoiding the most. chances are, you are together in pain and both scared to talk about it. Dare to become close to others again, even though doing so opens you up to the possibility of pain again if something should happen to them. Also, pay attention to the young children involved. They hurt just like you, and need to know someone is there for them. Take the time to listen to and answer their questions.

None of this is easy, but ALL OF IT is normal.

You can make it through the process of grief. Carrying on your day-to-day routines will help the process of adjustment, and, in no time, special interests and pleasures will again assume their normal place in the scheme of things.

By Jackie Kettler, M.A. Affiliated with the Psychiatric Center of Michigan – Adolescent Unit. A secondary educator for 20 years, she facilitates groups for "at risk" and bereaved adolescents.

And, Art Kirsh, M.S., M.A. Director of the KIDS-IN-CRISIS Program in Michigan. An educator for 25 years, he facilitates groups for bereaved teenagers.