Musings of a Grieving Sister

My brother’s birthday has always been the first in the calendar year for my family. Which meant that last year, we were struck with the disorder and confusion of marking a birthday without the celebrant a mere three months after our sudden, heavy loss.

As we approach the second birthday without its special celebrant, I’ve been thinking back on and appreciating the friends that help me celebrate and honour my brother on ordinary days in small, intangible ways. Those that make space for me to talk about him or about my pain; even if they never had the pleasure of getting to meet him. That warmly listen to my stories of him. Those that show me endless amounts of grace. That sit with me when I cry, or gently let me know they are at the side-lines when I go into hiding. The friends that haven’t tried to fix me or steer me back towards the person I used to be. But that have stood beside me and said “we’ll figure out who you are now together”

And so, today, I would like to celebrate my brother by giving special shoutouts for some invaluable ways friends have held my hand as a I stumble through a world without him. Friends dealing with different troubles and pains in their own lives too, yet who have still supported me immeasurably. In no particular order, my grateful shoutouts go to:

• The friend who I shared the shocking news with while she was on a 30hr coach trip. Who rose to the occasion and continually showed more kindness than I thought was possible
• The friend who willingly took on the gruesome task of ringing around different funeral homes and helped us choose the home that treated my brother with such dignity and care
• The long distance friends that drove from hundred of miles away, and more than once at that
• The friend that is a qualified doctor who continually reassured me that sick leave was there for my benefit, and that I could extend it as much as was needed
• The friend who tragically lost a sibling four years earlier, yet never once made my grief about him. Who showed me what it means to “comfort others with the same comfort you have received”
• The married couple (both dear friends) that would kindly sit on the phone with me for hours, for the most life giving and therapeutic calls. Who have shown up for my family and I in ways that leave me in awe.
• My two closest friends, who I consider sisters, that have continually been there for me. Even at odd hours, despite the whole ocean between us for one; and a toddler and another on the way (now a mum of two) for the other. That have both approached me with such kindness and gentleness and provided a safe place for my emotions
• The friends who kindly sought out quiet cafes for us to meet, being patiently understanding and flexible when I couldn’t handle crowds and noise

A few other honourable mentions go to

• The stranger who showed up with home cooked food and has stayed in touch with my family long after other friends and acquaintances have vanished. The lady whose kindness was so unreal we thought she was a literal angel
• The cousin who has thoughtfully been there since day one despite being in an another country, and who frequently checked in on us
• My brother’s friend that has adopted us, and that has extended his love for my brother to us in such a kind and sincere way

I am grateful for all these acts of kindness, and others I may not have mentioned. I am still standing in large part because of them.