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Grief Healing Discussion Groups

September 25, 1999...

Marea Clare

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After 3288 days have passed, one may think things would become easier. At least, I keep hoping so. If not on day 3289, then perhaps on 3290. Unfortunately, it hasn't. In fact, it has only gotten worse.

I lost my older brother, my only sibling nine years ago. He was 18 years old and died suddenly when he went into cardiac arrest following two grand mal seizures upon finishing a high school cross country race. I was a mere eleven years old at the time. Even so, we had a surprisingly close bond considering out age difference. We played computer games together, he taught me how to play the piano, clarinet, and drums. I'd help my parents whenever he'd have the ocassional epileptic seizure to ensure he didn't hurt himself.

And suddenly, that person is gone. What triggered his unusually worse episode of seizures that day... we may never know. All we do know is that he's gone. I am left an only child. Feeling selfishly bitter when I watch my mother intereact with any of her eight brothers or sisters, or my dad with his five. Or really anybody with their siblings. Knowing that it was something I had but was taken from me. And it can never be replaced.

I was fine for the longest of time. I turned to my faith. But it was when I hit 18 years old - the age my brother died - it began to hit for me. NOW I knew what it truly meant to have to live with this loss. To surpass my brother... to do things he never got to do like graduate high school or go to college. Every milestone in my life will forever be bittersweet knowing that it's an accomplishment he missed out on.

Also, what hurts is the fact that because I was so young when it happened, I know fewer and fewer people who actually knew him. Sure, family members, but friends and outside relationships? He was as much a part of me as myself. And anyone who knows me now can never fully know me without knowing him. I can share stories and pictures, but they can't know. They can just know of him. And so now I feel that I always have this HUGE part of me that noone can ever know, and it's frustrating because I WANT them to know.

But moreso than anything. I just miss him. I miss being able to turn to him for big bro- advice. I miss listening to him play the piano. I miss the goofy faces he'd make to cause me to laugh. I miss walking to the convenient store with him just to get a soda from a glass bottle to share. And I miss whatever relationship we might have had on down the road as we both entered adulthood.

I love you Tony!

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