My brother is 41 and dying of terminal cancer, he only has a few weeks left. I'm going to see him this weekend in the hospice to say goodbye. How do I do that? How do I live without him? I'm heartbroken. He's my whole childhood.
This is so surreal and incomprehensible.
I'm rambling but hope others may have been through similar with a sibling and can identify.
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Bereavement
My brother is dying
CloseYourMouthLynn · 15/06/2022 20:56
Strokethefurrywall · 16/06/2022 20:31
I'm so so sorry OP - I lost my brother in 2012. It was the 10 year anniversary 2 days ago.
He was 28 when he died, of cancer as well. The lovely doctors at Royal Marsden told us on 12 June that it was the end, that we should prepare ourselves. And so began that 48 hours of preparing family, friends, gathering together to say goodbyes. We were all with him when he took his last breath.
Oddly, I remember just wanting the wait to be over. I wanted to be able to move past the feeling of helplessness of watching someone suffer and struggle, into the raw grief of death. At least then I could grief for myself and my loss - the grief I'd felt in the run up to it had been all for him, for the fear he must have been feeling, grief for my parents, my sister-in-law.
Without sounding trite, grief, as the old saying goes, is an ocean. At first the storm is raging over you, and the grief crashes over you over and over again in giant waves so that you don't know which way is up. And just when you come up for air, another wave hits you. You have to accept that you have to ride the wave, expect the unexpected.
It's only with time that the ocean starts to calm itself - the ocean is still grief, but with fewer waves, and the occasional big ones. Soon, perhaps after a number of years, the ocean is a flat sea under a warm sun. The wave only comes when there's a birthday or anniversary, or birth. When my brother died, I cried all the days (and nights) for weeks, then one day I only found I was crying at night. Then I cried every other day, then once a week, once a month and so on.
I've personally always visualised his death as a giant gaping hole ripped into our life. At first, the hole is black, ominous and terrifying, the edges raw, jagged, weeping, bleeding and painful to touch. A wound that can't be healed with stitches or band aids. I made a decision to fill that hole with as many positive things as I could. I started singing again, running marathons, performing live. I made a vow to my brother that I would take him with me on my adventures, made him a promise to live a life he would be proud of.
10 years on, the hole is still there of course. Only now the edges are smooth and healed. It's no longer dark and ominous, but a hole filled with light and joy. It no longer hurts to touch.
I'm so sorry you have to start this journey of grief soon, and that you have to watch someone you love so much leave. Please do lean on your friends and family and allow those who love you to look after you.
Is there any possibility you can be there with him at the end? Do you have other family for support?
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