Even in the 1950s this cannot have been "right"

[PuddingandPie1]

My twin brother died in 1964 from an asthma attack on the way home from our primary school. Looking back I don't think that I was ever given any support after Stephen died. Certainly not from the school, Stephen became a non-person, never to be mentioned again. We had twin desks in the classroom and of course he and I had been put together but after he died I just sat at the same double desk on my own.

Mum was allowed, even encouraged, by the family and the community to show emotion but Dad and I were expected to do the old stiff upper lip job. It isn't surprising that I ended up bitterly resented Stephen for years, certainly well into my 20s. Every nice thing that ever happened to me seemed to be tainted by his death and I, stupidly, started thinking that I didn't matter to my parents.

I suspect that the main reason it took me close to 50 years to find closure was due to the lack of support in the 12 months after Stephen died and it makes me as mad as hell to think that!

Garlic .. "I wonder, if they'd been able to speak of their realities, would my parents' & grandparents' generations have been less tormented?"

Your grandfather sounds a lot like mine, and believe me ... maybe it was a good thing that he never spoke and you never knew.

My view is the "Silence", in many cases, was probably the only way a lot of people of those generations could cope with the reality of what had happened -- because what happened was so beyond reality.

My grandfather, after years of acute PTSD, finally began to talk at the end of his life because my mother wanted to document what had happened. I now know what happened to him and the family, and there are just some things that can never be spoken. Ever. They cannot even be thought about; you just have to lock them away for your own sanity.

It is better, in my view, to think a relative is a nasty piece of repressed hatred and anger, than realise that everything you thought about humanity is fundamentally false and that ordinary people are capable of opening the doors to hell.

My dad was born in 1942 and didn't meet his dad until 1946 when he returned from being held as a prisoner of war. I know it's not the same as some of the stories of loss and separation because it couldn't have been helped, so to speak. I do shudder to think of that happening to families now though.

Dh's aunt committed suicide in the 1980's leaving 2 young children. His nan has a photo on display of her as a little girl but she is rarely mentioned even when fil talks about his childhood and she wasn't mentioned at all at gf's funeral. Dh had been told that she'd died in an accident but discovered the truth at a later date. It must have been extremely traumatic for the whole family and dh told me never to ask about her.

I admit to thinking too much about death and I don't know what happens next. But when I die I hope my memory is kept alive, it upsets me to think that after my time on earth it could seem like I never existed. I would want to be remembered and talked about like my gp's are.

Regarding the bench Pudding, at my dc school they have a colourful children's bench in the playground called "the buddy bench". If a child feels lonely and wants someone to talk to or play with they can sit on it and another child will come to them. According to ds it always works, that would be a lovely and fitting memorial.

Mrs - from one mrs to another, I am no one acknowledges her passing.

I am sorry.

I had a school friend who passed away when we both were 14 and I still think of her a lot x

MrsD I'm so glad you talk about her on here

My nan's sister had twin daughters the same age as my dad. My dad often talks fondly of them.
In 1969 when they were 9, their mother had a few symptoms of cancer and was terrified of leaving them with no mother, so gassed them and herself in the oven.

My nan never spoke of it. My dad found out years later when he found a newspaper clipping of it in my nan's room!

My dad lost his dad in 1963 when he was 19. His father committed suicide. It was never spoken about and he never ever came to terms with it - he has been a bottled up person ever since. He never had anyone to talk to about it. I do seriously seriously believe that it has contributed hugely to his lifelong depression and anxiety, and relatively early dementia.

Sympathies OP. Things like this have done untold damage

MrsDeVere why on earth doesn't your family acknowledge your enormous loss? I just can't understand it. Are they trying to be kind? I assume not, sadly, since you say you're broken. So incredibly sorry .

Worksallhours that's very bleak. But obviously comprehensible if one reads between lines. So sorry. I think my father was very much in the same place, and as a child all I too knew was silence. That's how it was for so many. Guilt, and a coping mechanism too. It cast a long shadow, that war.

So sorry for you too OP, I should have said. Far too great a burden for such a small child.