April of 2011 my younger brother who had just turned 34 a few days earlier took his life in one of our childhood homes, a home I owned at the time. He was my only sibling, and to say the years have gone by and the need to talk to him has only grown stronger. Since his passing, I feel I not only lost a sibling and a best friend, but also became to some degree an orphan. The pain and suffering for them is truly something I can even begin to understand, as a father myself I can not fathom their pain. As a child of theirs, I feel the day of my younger brothers death was the day I lost my parents too. It feels they have decided to just allow life to exist in wait of their deaths, instead of embracing the life they are so blessed to still have. It is painful to me to watch them live out the rest of their years like this, they have grandchildren, great grandchildren, and so many friends who love them. I can manage my pain, and my loss of Michael (my brother), but how do I get through the pain of watching my parents suffer and distance themselves from living?

It’s been 48 hrs since I got the phone call from Dad to say that you were not longer with us. In all of my 46 years you’ve been there. Quietly and dependably. We don’t talk regularly but I’ve always known you would drop anything if I needed you.I am struggling to imagine the future without you being there in some way.

I promise I’ll look after Mum and Dad. We’re being practical at the moment (as you’d expect knowing us as your do) but don’t imagine for one second that means we don’t miss you and grieve for you.

Rest in peace my darling brother. X

Hi Bubba. I just want you to know that i miss you and I regret not talking to you more. I wish we could’ve been close like how we were when we were younger. I miss you everyday more and more. I’m so lost without you – you were everything to me. And I will always remember and love you no matter what. Even if your stupid self decided it was the only way out. But I don’t blame you; you did what you needed in the moment. You’re an idiot. But forever my idiot. Love, your sibling.

I miss you. It’s been more than 2 months since you passed. You missed my birthday. You missed Nanny’s 80th. I don’t blame you for any of it, and I hope you saw these days.

I hope you see every day. The good and the bad. I hate to admit that there have been both. I hate that there are still bad days, I know that’s not what you wanted for us. I hate that there are good days; it’s been 2 months – how could there be ‘good days.’

Paul, I hope you understand (understood). I don’t know whether to bury the past or carry it with me? There is a straightforward answer: you are the past now and it’s best I carry that with me. But it’s not so simple, or else it wouldn’t be a question.

Should I let go of everyone I met before I knew of your struggles (maybe they distracted me)? Should I let go of our parents (how could they let you go and make me stay)? What should I do (maybe you knew the answer but I’m afraid you didn’t)?

I will never know the answers, that’s a truth that I wish you never showed me. Paul, I love you. Everyone wishes you were back. I hope you found something that I can’t imagine but will discover, in due time.

And in the flip side, I wish you learned how full life is. At 23, I don’t understand, which makes me all the more sure you didn’t know at 19. Still, I hope I can show you now while it’s too late. How to take the good with the bad; the beautiful with the ugly. I hope you see.

When I meet you (in due time), I hope we can share stories of the different paths we took. I hope neither was better than the other.

But most of all I hope I get to see you again.

Dear Bud,

You have been buried for 30 days today. I saw you for the last time that day. The worst and most necessary thing I’ve ever had to do.

You had only just turned 15. My baby brother. Still shorter than me. You looked like such a baby. It came out of nowhere. It was shocking, how could a baby have done what you did? Known what you knew to do? I’ve tried to understand, but there were no warnings. It still doesn’t make sense. I talked to you a few days before on the phone. You complained about a school trip you had been on. I laughed with you about how hot and miserable it sounded. You said you were still glad you went, but that you never wanted to do it again. You were kind to others. You were kind to animals. You were a know-it-all. You told me I made Kraft Mac and cheese wrong. And that I didn’t unload the dishwasher in the proper order. I stand by my Mac and cheese method, but grant you may have a point about the dishwasher.

For two days in a row I have not cried. Today I began to feel sick to my stomach. I needed to feel the pain of your absence — it had been too long. I cannot outrun or avoid the grief from losing you. If ignored, the pain will fester. So I will not ignore you again.

I love you forever,
Your big sister

I no longer have a big brother. He’s the one who sang to me as a baby so I wouldn’t cry, You are my Sunshine. The one who took care of me while mom was working, made sure I was safe, fed, and most importantly, happy. The one who could always make me laugh, even on the saddest days. He even named me!A piece of me died with him that day. It physically feels like a piece of my own self is gone, just not there anymore.

The two of us have gone through so much together, side by side, holding each other up when we couldn’t stand alone.

People are blaming the traumatic brain injury he got 6 years prior to his suicide. How could it be? How could his wife not reach out to ANYONE and ask for help?

7 years ago. Seems like ages but at the same time seems just like yesterday. So much has happened since you decided to die. I drank so much and CW said he wished he could tell you that your choice is ruining the marriage. That was a shock to me to hear him say that. DW told me to stop drinking so now I have. You have no idea how much your decision has affected everyone in the family. Mom and Dad seem so old now. We should have been dealing with this together now its just me. We should have been talking and texting each other everyday but now there is no one. We should have grown old together but now there is no one. You left me an only child and it seems against nature. You have always been in my life except for the 2-1/2 years I was born before you and now the 7 years after. I still miss you with all my heart. I still ache. I push our childhood memories away because I dont want to think of what was. It just makes me miss you more. I hate September. DW says he missed you too. You were to be the Uncle and you just shoved that to the side. The cancer was treatable. You just never gave the Doctors a chance. I still wish you would have called me but I know why you didnt because I would have stopped you. I would have drove 100mph to get to you and stop you. You didnt want anyone to stop you. Your decision was made. I love you so much and miss you everyday. Sis

I woke up thinking of you today. With the help of my surviving siblings, I put together a collage of photo’s from your life and gave one to each member of our family. Mom really loved hers. It made her cry, but I know she loved it. The pictures I used were from different times in your life. The first picture ever taken of you in 1964. The last picture taken of you in 2024 at our brother’s poker game a few days before you passed. Mine is on the wall near my son’s memorial, and close to my recliner chair so I can see you both and talk to you. I’m looking at you as I write this.

Mom had a stroke a little while back. She survived and is now in a nursing home. Your sister-in-law and I will be moving back to my hometown next year to be closer to family and to spend as much time with mom before she passes.

Life is a pain at times. Yet, when I am outside walking the dog and the wind blows, I know you are there. When I am reeling in a Catfish at the lake, I believe you are there sitting beside me.

One of our older brothers had you cremated. He gave all of us a small Urn with your ashes.

One of your uncles has Cancer. The prognosis isn’t good.

All of us are now in our 60’s, and you would have been the last one to join that group this December. I became the youngest sibling when you passed.

The leaves are starting to fall from the trees. One of our childhood friends who lives further up north texted me the other day to let me know he is getting sick. If he or mom get there before I do, take care of them. Take care of our little sister. Take care of my son. Take care of yourself. Until we meet again.