I’ve never been a stranger to death. My first traumatic loss was in 2013, when my best friend passed away at the age of 18. I was 17 at the time, and I thought that my world had ended. But life went on for me. Miraculously, I didn’t experience any significant losses for nearly a decade.
In 2020, the family pet, our beloved cocker spaniel Nellie, passed away at the age of 14. In 2023, my uncle died suddenly, only days before his daughter’s wedding. Later that year, my boyfriend at the time had his final living grandparent succumb to cancer. Last year, I lost my first grandparent when my maternal grandmother lost her lifelong battle against her health.
With the exception of my friend and my uncle, all of these deaths were sad, but not unexpected. I’ve always known that time will take away the people I love.
I didn’t think that I’d lose anyone too young, too soon again.
June 12th, 2025 - David is in the hospital
It was an uneventful Thursday. The highlight of my day had been watching the teaser for the new Spaceballs movie. After my fiancé Adam came home, he told me that his older brother David was in the hospital with pneumonia.
I wasn’t worried. My cousin had recently been in the hospital with pneumonia, and she recovered after only a day or two. And the doctors were saying that Dave should be fine. Before I went to bed, we talked about Dave and how he really needed to take better care of himself.
He slept all day because he drank too much. He had no job and relied entirely on his parents for support. We had asked him to be the best man in our wedding, but I was beginning to have doubts again. He had apparently stopped participating in the program that was supposed to help people in his situation.
June 13th, 2025 - Death surprises me again
I didn’t think my Friday the 13th would be unlucky. I woke up, got dressed, and walked to the MARTA station. As I arrived at my first stop, Adam called me. When I answered, he was sobbing. Somehow, I knew before he said it that David was dead. But still, I asked, “What do you mean he’s dead?”
“I’m so sorry!” That came from a woman seated across from me. I saw a man and a woman staring at me a few seats down.
I looked at my phone. My parents had been told about Dave the night before, and my mom had just responded to the email I sent: “I hope he gets better soon!!” I typed out my response: “Adam just called me. He didn’t make it.”
I remember feeling dazed as I made my trip back home. But I didn’t really cry until I got home and collapsed in Adam’s arms. In spite of all his flaws, David was his brother, and I knew he would have been an awesome uncle one day. Now that would never happen.
The week after – Trying to go back to “normal” after David died
I spend at least one fourth of my work week answering phones and talking to clients. I work for a nonprofit, and I try to be empathetic. But it’s harder for me now, and one interaction from my first days back in the office stands out to me.
I was on the phone with a client, one of our regulars. To make a long story short, I couldn’t find his name in our database, and I stupidly told him that. He became upset and started ranting at me about how this happens every time he needs help and how he doesn’t understand how this can keep happening to him. I tried to pacify him, but he refused to listen.
I gave up, forced a smile onto my face, and gave up. I just kept repeating, “Yes sir,” in the sweetest voice I could muster. He was sorry for being so snappy; he had just woken up from a nap - I understood that, didn’t I? “Yes, sir.” And would I be able to schedule him for an appointment later this week? “Yes, sir.” He thanked me for answering the phone and wished me a blessed day.
“Thank you very much, sir,” I repeated in my Snow White voice.
Adam likes to spend his breaks from work on our balcony. He drinks tea, plays video games, and just enjoys time to himself.
I was watching TV when he knocked on the glass door that divides our living room from the balcony. I looked over and saw a large butterfly resting on his finger. It stayed outside with him for about twenty minutes, then it took off on its next adventure. I told my parents about that the next time I saw them, and Mom got teary-eyed. She said it was David.
I don’t think she was right, but it was a nice thought.
The future – Coping with grief in the long-term
I want to be happy about my wedding and the year ahead, but it’s going to be hard to be surrounded by friends and family with such an important figure absent. Our first Thanksgiving as a married couple will be spent at his parents’ house, and then we’ll spend our first Christmas together in our apartment. It’ll be hard not to think about him, and about the future he’ll never see.
Contact Georgia-based organization Kate’s Club for support through sibling loss or grieving a sibling
Kate’s Club empowers children and teens, their families, and young adults facing life after the death of a parent, sibling, caregiver or someone important to them. The organization builds healing communities through recreational and therapeutic group programs, education and advocacy. Since its founding in metro Atlanta in 2003, Kate’s Club has served thousands of individuals who are grieving, through both member and outreach services. Kate's Club offers services in Metro Atlanta, Southwest Georgia, Northeast Georgia and Coastal Georgia.