I’ve been a surviving sibling for more than 50 years
What have I learned that might help others?
My sister Robin passed away on November 17, 1967. She was 14 years old, and I was two years younger. Looking back, I see my life as a dichotomy: my life before her death and my life afterward. I refer to this life afterward as my afterlife. This is an unusual use of the term ‘afterlife,’ which typically means an existence after death. In my case, it is my existence after Robin’s death.
I’ve written a lot about Robin and me. You can read about us here:
Or listen to the podcast episodes where I tell my story (episodes 4 and 5):
The beginning of my afterlife was excruciating as my world as I knew it turned upside down. My sister was dead, my mother announced (hours after my sister’s death) that she would conceive another child, and my father was lost in a haze of unrelentless guilt. I spent my teenage years frozen and numb, trying to understand this new reality. I remained in a cocoon until I started therapy many years later after moving out to attend college. Ultimately, I emerged from the cocoon and began understanding, feeling, and growing again. It has been a slow and deliberate process, painful at times, to move toward the “me” I have become in my afterlife.
In my former life, I was the youngest of two children, carefree, smart, and content with being “good enough.” In my afterlife, I am the oldest of two children (having survived a 14-month stint as an only child) and am focused, driven and committed. Purposeful activities are my priority, along with keeping myself balanced and healthy — spiritually, physically and emotionally. It’s taken quite some time and a lot of therapy to grow into and ultimately flourish in my afterlife.
My relationship with Robin has continued for 55 years. It changed after her death (of course), but it did not die with her. We continue to share memories, history and secrets. I have pictures, journals and music —a sister’s treasures. I will always have a sister.
Here are some nuggets that have worked for me that could be helpful to others finding their way forward while dealing with unimaginable grief and loss.
- Find a therapist who understands that grief comes in waves; the cycles of grief change over time but never end. Find a therapist who understands that moving forward is a complicated life-long process. Find one who you can talk to without hesitation. For me, starting therapy turned my life around. I’ve been seeing a therapist intermittently for more than 40 years. I’m seeing a therapist now.
- Talk about you and your sibling. After my brother was born, 14 months after Robin died, everyone stopped talking about Robin. It was almost as though she had never existed at all. It was stifling, unnatural and unhealthy. Today I talk about Robin without hesitation. She is my sister, and I love sharing memories of us.
- Be patient with yourself. There will be bad days. Accept them as a natural part of life. Things will happen that will cause your grief and anxiety to spike. These triggers are often unexpected (like seeing someone wearing your sister’s favorite purse). Try not to run away from these triggered memories and feelings. They are a part of you and your love for your sibling.
- Find purpose. David Kessler wrote an entire book entitled “Finding Meaning,” where he eloquently describes how grief can sometimes be mitigated by finding meaning in what we’ve lost. I started a non-profit, Sibs Forever, focused on preserving sibling memories and stories. It’s been wonderfully cathartic. Finding purpose can come in many forms, big and small, including participating in a cancer walk, joining a local bereavement group such as those hosted by the COPE Foundation, or supporting a bereavement organization like Evermore.
- Journal, journal, and keep journaling. Keep a diary, written and/or video. Express your emotions, feelings, thoughts, fears, hopes, dreams, and memories (good and bad). This will keep your memories fresh and help you stay bonded and close to your sibling. The flagship application of Sibs Forever (my non-profit company) includes a journal feature where entries can contain writing, pictures and videos. It’s 100% private and separate from social media sites. Here is a link to the public entries in my journal (private entries are not shown).
- Consider scheduling an appointment with a competent and compassionate Medium. I was very skeptical about this, but I scheduled an appointment with a recommended Medium and found it comforting and enlightening. I said nothing during the first half of the hour session (conducted over Zoom), where the Medium told me about my sister, my grandson, my family and some bits about my future. The experience quelled some anxiety and prompted me to think and journal about ideas and plans. I recorded the session and have already listened to it several times. I used this Medium, which several people recommended. There are many ineffective and unqualified Mediums, so it is vital to do research and choose carefully.
- Exercise (and striving for a healthy diet) are two gifts I give myself as part of self-care and self-love. I cannot overstate the importance of taking time out of every day to nurture yourself this way. It’s essential to choose moderate activities that you enjoy and can do consistently. Your physical and mental health will benefit (including better sleep, reduced stress and an improved overall outlook).
- Reach out, socialize and reduce isolation. This is challenging when we are struggling, feeling overwhelmed, or sad. I admit to being a homebody, happy to hole up reading, writing, working, and avoiding social contact. So I have to push myself to connect with my friends. Joining a grief group, a book club, or a gym or scheduling time each week to hike with friends will ensure you don’t become isolated, lonely and disconnected.
I am writing this article for my friend Sonia who has recently become a surviving sibling. I hope she and others in similar situations find it helpful and comforting.
