Sarah’s story

Sarah shares her story about navigating grief after her older brother died unexpectedly in 2001.

Our brother, John, died when he was 11. I was 7 and our younger brother was only 3. We went to bed on the night of the 5th of June in 2001 not knowing that when we woke up the next day it would be in a world without him. That morning when my lovely mum had to tell us he was gone will be etched in my memory forever. 

John’s death was an unexpected tragedy. One I still struggle to comprehend 23 years on. Overnight, I went from being the middle child in a fairly happy family to being the eldest in a heart-breaking reality I could never have imagined.

My brother was the life and soul of every room he was in. Full of untethered enthusiasm, the silliest jokes and the most vivid imagination - with a special talent for DJing and writing rap music (always hilarious and catchy). John was kind, thoughtful and truly unique. He touched so many peoples lives in the short time he was here. 

We took some time off school when it happened and I remember thinking I just wanted to go back and face everyone. I wanted everything to be normal and hated the thought of people treating me differently or even mentioning John because that made me vulnerable, which was the opposite of what I wanted.

At 7, I hardly had the tool kit for this kind of thing in my little developing brain so I tried to shut everything out and found it very difficult to talk about him. In the back of my mind for a while I thought maybe it was all an elaborate prank and he was going to come back when I least expected it. 

A few month’s after John’s death, my mum noticed I had a bald patch on my head and all my eyelashes had come out. I let her believe it was alopecia until she took me to the doctor and they realised I had been compulsively pulling out my own hair as a trauma response. It was my mind’s way of coping with acute trauma at such a young age, which is something I’ve only come to terms with over the past ten years.  

I am so incredibly lucky that my mum is the strong, amazing woman she is. I am a mother now to two beautiful girls and how she didn’t curl up in a ball and give up is beyond me. She got up every day for my younger brother and I and gave us everything she had when her heart must have been shattered. 

Worries about my mum were a big focus in my life for years after losing my brother. I was so terrified of something happening to her because that was the worst scenario I could imagine which just added to the trauma I was trying to live through. I remember she told me “nothing was ever changed by someone worrying or not worrying about it - so don’t waste your time” and I still remind myself of that today. 

Dealing with grief as a child losing their sibling felt traumatic and somewhat overlooked without the right support services at the time. It definitely made me the person I am today, if I can take any positive from everything I am extremely empathetic and I can offer support and understanding through lived experience.

I am so glad Sibling Support exists now, knowing that you’re not alone going through this. Even writing this all out has been very cathartic. I wish I had this something like this back then. 

My regret is that while I built my wall and was closed off to speaking about him I went through my life and met people who became close friends - they didn’t know about John for a long time until I was ready to tell them. Some still don’t and I feel like I’ve betrayed him by not speaking his name every day. 

Thinking about childhood grief as an adult, I grieve for the life events we miss together.

I missed my brother at my wedding and will forever miss the possibility of his.

I grieve for the uncle my children will only know through stories and photographs.

For the adventures his life would have had in store for him.

For the little girl who lost out on a carefree childhood with of both her brothers.