“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
― Jamie Anderson
Today, for the first time since my brother and father passed away, I went to a new doctor. I’m establishing primary care in my new city and I had to answer all of the questions and fill out family history (twice). The wording on this questionnaire hurt my heart and I had to fight back the tears. On this form, it asked for my sibling’s info as well as my parent’s. It asked about their medical history. Checking those boxes was traumatic in a way I didn’t expect. It was harder for my brother – as it always is. My dad was unhealthy for a very long time with multiple hospital stays over recent years. My brother was seemingly healthy and getting healthier all the time. Or so we thought. He was also my younger brother. One never, ever expects to say goodbye to their youngest (and only) sibling.
It has been tough this afternoon and evening to distract myself from the loneliness of facing the death of your only sibling. I will miss him always.
For someone that had one primary dream her entire life (to have a family) – facing the loss of family is deeply painful. We don’t ever fully get over these losses. I believe that completely. I believe the loss changes shape over time, however. Our grief is really just love . . . and because of that, we’re gonna hurt, we’re gonna laugh at the funny memories, and we’re gonna naturally long that it wasn’t a pain we had to know it the first place.
I will always love and miss my brother – he was my only sibling. But grief – while hard to navigate, is also a reminder of how much he was loved, too.
Writing in the Margins 