SIBLING DEATH
My Eldest Brother’s Suicide Left Me An Only Child
Our family seemed cursed by generational trauma
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I looked down at the phone sitting on my desk when it buzzed its silent dance. I saw my aunt’s name flash across the screen and my heart sank in a nanosecond. She only calls when something’s wrong. She is, inadvertently, the bearer of bad news.
Aunty Di, my Mother’s younger sister, was once my partner in crime. With only twelve years separating us, I was in my mid-teens when she’d let me tag along to do grown-up things like drink and smoke and get up to general mischief. And although she and Mum were close sisters, Di never told her about our shenanigans. She was an ally at a time when I needed one. Di didn’t know it, though; I kept my secrets to myself.
Bonds can dissipate over time as life moves us in different directions. Di got married and had a baby while I pretended to follow dreams. I didn’t know I was chasing ghosts as I tried to outrun a destiny that looked a lot like hers. Marriage and babies, no thanks. I had bigger plans for my life, and changing nappies wasn’t on my bucket list. I’d be a free-spirited nomad and escape the mental confines of my upbringing. I wouldn’t be…
