Comments on: Tell Us Your Story

By: Leslie C

Leslie C — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 15:43:50 +0000

this is the longest day ever…i wish i could just go to sleep and wake up on a day that wasnt so painful..All i can think about is the horrible and painful way he died, all alone and scared. How he’ll never ger to meet my amazing little girl. how Ill never get to hug him again..I just miss hiim so much..
i did hug him in a dream once…he came to me and told me he was ok, and that I would be too..he hugged me and i woke up.
i wish he’d come visit me again.
I MISS YOU, JUSTIN

<3 <3 <3

By: Leslie C

Leslie C — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 13:07:02 +0000

Today it has been five years since someone murdered my older brother. My heart aches like its only just happened and i feel that crushing wieght and racing heart in my chest. His killers been convicted and given the death penelty. One life for another doesnt feel like a fair trade to me. I know I wouldnt wish this feeling on any other family…
This website helped me so much all those years ago when my life came crashing down around me. When i was no longer a little sister..
To all those just starting down this horrible path, it sounds contrived but it does get easier. You will never forget and you will always love, but the deep gut wrenching pain will subside.
thank you for listening…

By: Lauren

Lauren — Sun, 13 Jun 2010 04:11:27 +0000

Ashley,

Thank you.

It’s that split second between dreams and wakefulness that sometimes is the most precious- where you’re closest to how it used to be.

You’re very right- no matter what scenario is changed the outcome is the same. I believe my regret is more centered around that even had I done something different, nothing would’ve changed. Perhaps I could have delayed his death, but I can’t regret what I did or did not do- My only regret lingers in the fact that he is deceased.

You echo my sister and I’s sentiment. We will never stop being our brother’s sisters.

By: JustinsSister

JustinsSister — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 10:38:00 +0000

Lauren,
My name is Ashley and my big brother also died-about 7 months ago now. I know how you feel when you talk about how it feels like its getting worse. I think the inital shock wears off after a little while and you’re forced to think about it even more. My brother was killed when two semis hit his car on the highway. I always think-why didn’t I call him before he left for his trip that day? Why didn’t we hang out that Monday before like we were supposed to? Why?! You think of every possible situation that could’ve possibly changed what happened…but the outcome is always the same. You wake up every morning and for a split second you’re ok-but then you realize that life isn’t what it used to be. Your sibling is gone. Your built-in best friend. Your protector(esp if its an older brother). I can’t bring myself to delete his number out of my phone because that might make it real. The overwhelming thought is slowly seeping into my mind everyday that this is real. He’s gone. But when people ask if I have any brothers or sisters-I say yes-I do. Just because he isn’t in his body down here on earth-doesn’t mean he isnt in my heart and soul every single second…I will never stop being his sister. ever.

By: Lauren

Lauren — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 04:51:53 +0000

It’s been 271 days since my big brother died. It still feels like my sister walked into the room and told me. His birthday wasn’t too long ago. I’m still in denial and I still call his old cell phone number hoping to hear his voice. I’m only 20 (19 at the time) and he was 33. I still can’t talk about how I feel about him to people- I can tell the facts though: My brother died of an overdose. Luckily, I can say what I want to here. I wish I knew why he stopped telling me the truth of what he was doing. He used to tell me everything even about the drugs. He was supposed to stick by my sister and I, always looking out for us like he said and promised. I’m incredibly jealous of my sister. He was a part of her wedding. I can never have that. The last time I saw him he promised to take me sky-diving on my birthday. His funeral was less than two weeks before then. I still don’t know whether to use “was” or “is” referring to him in conversation. I usually go with “is” because it comforts me.

I know it’s not fair to play the blame game, but you know, that’s the logical side of me. I can’t help but feel “what ifs” a lot when I think about him. What if my sister and I went to the beach with him, what if mom and dad or grandma and grandpa did this. What if I just called him up? What if a single phone call for just ten minutes could’ve earned me another one of his huge bear hugs?

Instead of it getting easier, I feel like it’s getting worse. I took a leave of absence from college. I got two jobs too keep me busy. I’m making myself sick trying to avoid thinking about his absence, just to get angry at myself on days that I can’t remember if I’ve thought about him or not. I still haven’t seen the gravestone.

I haven’t cried in front of my parents since the day of the funeral. I felt I needed to be strong for them, for my family. Now that I feel they’re “safe,” I feel like I can finally acknowledge my own grief. I’m scared to be that sad and I hate crying, but what terrifies me the most is reaching the point where I know he’s really gone.

By: Jill

Jill — Mon, 17 May 2010 20:49:52 +0000

Wow. Okay… My brother, Jeremy… Jeremy was nine years older than me. I guess he still is because he just died two weeks ago. He’d be turning 33 next month, and I turn 24 in August.
My brother was always a God to me, I always wanted to be exactly like him. My personality, likes, style, everything - it all comes from my brother.
We don’t know what happened. His wife came home from work at midnight to find the front door unlocked, him in the foyer, all cold and in a pool of blood with a gunshot wound to his face. There was no gun found. Her laptop was missing from the foyer.
His 2 1/2 year old daughter was sleeping in the next room, thank God she did not wake up and come into the foyer and find him.
The police immediately ruled it as suicide, even though there was no gun and things were missing. They contaminated the crime scene, didn’t take prints, and took my brother away in a bag, leaving his brother-in-law to clean up the blood.
The same thing happened a couple of blocks away two weeks before, same type of gun. And then it happened again in the same neighborhood a few days after my brother’s death. The police refuse to connect the crimes, and have ruled my brother’s death as “inconclusive”.
After a week they finally came to take fingerprints, but so many people had been in and out of the house by then…
The neighbor had surveillance cameras, one of which showed two young men walking towards my brother’s house at the time of his death, and yet the police refuse to pursue the case any further.
I have since become violent, angry, and suicidal. I punch concrete and slide my fists down the grainy rock just to tear the skin off.
I have become angry with everyone, including my parents. I have been impossibly rude to them, as they have to me. This is ripping my family apart. The people who did this didn’t just kill my brother, they killed my whole family. We are all dead inside. All that is left of me is a shell of intense rage.
I am mad at everyone I see. Mad that they get to go on living their lives while my brother is dead. My brother was SPECIAL. He was a writer and a stand up comedian. A brilliant writer. He had a certain gravity about him that drew people in, people couldn’t get enough of his good times.
I want to find the boys that did this. I don’t want the cops to find them, I want to find them. I don’t want them to sit in jail forever, or to get the death penalty. I want to torture them. I want to torture them everyday for the rest of my life.
I want my brother back.

By: Nicole

Nicole — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 19:09:14 +0000

I just want to say a little something because I want to reach out to those that have dysfuntional families. My mother has not spoken to me since my brother’s funeral. My brother died on April 1st 2010, from a pulmonary embelism that was misdiagnosed as pnemonia. She has so much guilt that I think it is easier for her to point and blame. She is also mentally ill and for some reason her side of the family believes her lies. I think I am the only one that truly knows her since she told me almost everything. I was her doll that she could tell everything to and abuse. It tore our family apart. My mother had many affairs while my brother and I grew up. She cheated on my father and then told everyone he cheated on her and left her stranded with two children. She cheated on my stepfather many many times, and is now married to one of the men who she had one her last affairs with (I think). I am blessed though I have my father and his wife and their children. My brother and I had a strained relationship because he always protected my mother. He also had a very different relationship with her. When she told me her stuff no one was ever around. She never talked to my brother and I at the same time. It made it extremely difficult to ever tell him the truth about her lies. I suffer with it now. I miss Tim and wish we had just had a moment here on Earth where he could look into my eyes and tell me I’m not crazy. I wish he could have been more trusting of me and not believed my mother. Does anyone else suffer from lies and dysfunction in their families that make the death of their sibling even more difficult? My brother and I were 13 months apart. Because of my mother’s issues I was often left to take care of my brother. She often was not there for us, who would have time with all her boyfriends? When I should have been the loving sister I was ordered by my mother to make sure my brother did chores, etc etc etc. It is difficult not to be angry. I know in time these feelings will get easier to deal with, especially if I stay away from my mother’s abuse. I will never forget my mother calling me “evil” when I softly asked her to stop, and I knew the truth when she started fabricating about my father for the third time only five days after my brother died ( I had already put up with two comments about my dad). I feel that my mother took away my relationship with my brother, my father, even my stepfather, now I have to try and be strong so that I can have a loving relationship with my husband. I have major trust issues. Something positive has to come from the madness in my mother’s family cycle. How can one person cause so much damage to so many people? It is difficult not to hate. I have to remember that she has made wrong choices, and I must learn from her mistakes. Perhaps I will be able to help other people and children that come from these kind of abusive family relationships. Thank you…Tim I love you…I pray every moment to be close to you.

By: Anonymous

Anonymous — Sun, 25 Apr 2010 11:04:59 +0000

My brother is dying and I feel sick inside, sometimes even nauseated. I have a 40 minute drive to get there but will be staying with my sister soon. It has been an agonizing time and I have never felt grief like this before, even when my mom was dying. You see, my brother is only 47 and he is less than 2 years older than me. He is suffering way too much for this world, I agonize over the physical pain he is going through, sometimes I have to go outside and cry and pray to let him go. As much as I do not want him to suffer anymore, a little piece of me keeps holding on to these moments I have left with him. I am helpless, there is nothing I can do but be thankful for pain medication, even though it doesn’t always work right away and I see him suffering. I LOVE MY BROTHER and no I do not want him to die but I do not want him to suffer, this is no way to live. I rub his shoulder and can only feel bone. Why him, he has a six-year old son and wife. I know I will be devestated when he dies, completely broken inside. He is failing fast, I must tell him how much he means to me and how much I love him. As much as I want his pain to be over, is as much as I will miss him and be devestated.

By: Marion

Marion — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 14:14:26 +0000

My sister died Feb 4th 2010 - she was vacationing with her husband in the Canary Islands and training for an Ironman race. While cycling down a steep incline she lost control and crashed into a rock face. Her husband was with her but before the medics could get to her - she died from a fatal head injury. She was just 37 - died a day after her birthday. It’s been over three weeks now and the pain is so acute, so devastating. I am the older sister by 6 years - I loved her and was protective of her. She was the best kind of person - a gifted psychologist. A sheer waste for her to die. I am constantly telling myself that she is gone - I will never see her again - she is dead. I still have the nail polish on my toes from the day we went for a pedicure - the day before she flew out to the Canary Islands. We had a very special friendship. We were not able to have her body brought back to Canada - her husband cremated her over there for reasons of practicality - I don’t know. He is devastated - his one true soulmate is gone and he was left to deal with everything down there for four days before arriving home with her ashes. She was in the prime of her life - a beautiful, vibrant woman - gone.

By: Fiona in Norwich

Fiona in Norwich — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 10:48:46 +0000

The worst thing that anyone said to me was my partner’s sister, in an email. My partner had explained to her that I was surprised that, when we went to visit his sis and her family, she didn’t talk about my recent loss. Her reply was that she couldn’t talk about death and cancer ‘in front of the children.’

In actual fact her teenage daughter and son had gone off into town to meet their friends and weren’t even there so I think that really it’s her who finds the subject of cancer and the death of a man at the age of forty-two disgusting and distasteful.

Everyone told me that I should go and see a bereavement cousellor - even the counsellor at Relate (relationships).

What is it about your sib dying in their forties that everyone wants to send you off to an emotional clap clinic as if you have syphillis or something?

Would it have been easier if Gary, my bro, had died of something other than cancer or is it death itself that everyone is so wound up about?

It was such a relief to find this and adult sibling grief because I really did think I was the only person on the planet who felt this isolated and that it was my fault I’m ‘not coping’.

With starlight and healing to all bereaved sibs

Fiona