An Open Letter To Grieving Siblings: How I Got Through The First Few Painful Years

Sibling grief can often go unrecognized, as concerned friends and family members focus their attention on the bereaved parents, life partner, and children of a person who has passed.

However, a sibling's grief is just as valid, painful, and life-altering. The sibling bond is one of the longest attachments of life and one of the few relationships that can conceivably span an entire lifetime.

I may not know you or your story, but I understand all too well the heartbreak and devastation you are feeling now. I lost my older brother, Scott, to sudden cardiac arrest in 2017. Scott had always been my rock and my sunshine, and losing him was the most unimaginable nightmare I could fathom. He left behind a wife, two young daughters, a mother, hundreds of friends, and an entire world of shattered pieces. 

You are probably asking if life can really go on. Will it ever stop hurting? Will you ever be able to breathe normally again? Will you ever genuinely smile and laugh again? The answer to all of these questions is yes. Well, except the hurting one. That, I'm afraid, continues. But it is different from what you are feeling now—more manageable, more of a subtle aching than a stabbing pain. 

Grief is like being given a giant boulder you must carry every day. At first, the load seems too enormous. You feel winded immediately. You think the weight of it might crush you. But you continue because you have no choice. 

Slowly, after carrying it on your shoulders day after day, the boulder will seem to become lighter. It's not that it is—it's just that you get used to the weight. The boulder is always there, you always feel it, but you get stronger and learn to work around it. It becomes a part of who you are. Almost a comfort. There are still days when it will bring you to your knees, but those days become fewer and fewer as the years pass by. 

Quieting your racing thoughts will be essential during this time, and there is no better way to do that than through meditation. To begin, find a cozy, quiet area in your house where you can be undisturbed for at least 10 minutes. Sit or lie on the floor, close your eyes, and turn your attention to your breathing. It helps to count silently as you breathe, "in-two-three" and "out-two-three." Your mind will likely wander, and that is totally fine. When you notice your thoughts bubbling up, just let them go and bring your attention back to your breathing.

This might also take some time, but finding a creative way to externalize grief helps to take it out of your body and to bring a sense of peace and purpose. I did this by creating a picture book tribute to my brother and our childhood. Channeling grief into something tangible was more cathartic than I could have ever imagined. Scott was a larger-than-life person, so it is no surprise that he continues to touch lives from the great beyond. Helping his magical spirit live on has been one of the greatest gifts of my life.