23 tcf.org.uk It’s 7 years today since my little sister died of lung cancer at the age of 34. She was a great sister and a wonderful person. I wish we could have had more time together. My feelings have changed over time, it’s not an intense feeling of loss but a sadness I think I will carry with me for the rest of my life. If I can think of that as my love for her then it makes me feel better. My emotions surrounding my loss used to be much more of a rollercoaster than they are now, anger was a big one - at life, at other people but I guess that is just part of the process of grief. I really do relate to that image of the loss being bigger than life itself but as time has gone on my life around the loss has grown. It’s still there of course but not consuming my every day. As we know there isn’t really a manual on grief but being part of the TCF Bereaved Siblings Facebook Group has really helped me and, as awful as losing a sibling is, I do enjoy spending time with other siblings who have also experienced this loss. Therapy has been a big help for me, connecting with my sister’s friends, dipping in and out of books on grief and podcasts. Remembering my Sister Shared by bereaved sibling R COMPASSION | SIBLING GRIEF - FEATURE: REMBERING MY SISTER hole that has been torn through my chest and shredded my heart in a way that can never be fixed. I will never be whole again; I just need to learn to live broken. I’m not okay. I will never be the person I was before. I’m told that one day there will be a new normal, a new broken, but functional, me who just has a few bad days. When people will ask ‘how are you doing?’ it won’t cause a white-hot knife of pain to stab into the open, raw, gaping, ragged, wound in my chest and I will just give the expected response of ‘I’m good thanks, how about you?’ and we’ll move on. It’s the social convention, the expected thing, the polite question to ask. For now, when my grandma’s neighbour asks me, ‘how are you doing?’ I will just say, ‘I’m as okay as I can be,’ because she doesn’t know me, she’s only asking to be polite, and she doesn’t really want an answer. Written in loving memory of Tobias Avery Brann (Toby).
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