Tag: brain cancer

Depression, Guest Blogger, Medical Issues, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

Open Letter to A Brother Who Left This World Too Soon

Barefoot Faith Journey

Open Letter to A Brother Who Left This World Too Soon

In this Open Letter to A Brother Who Left This World Too Soon, my guest blogger remembers her brother, who died of cancer six years ago. What a thing for a family to go through. The loss of a child, grandchild, brother, and friend. He was a few days shy of turning 19 when he met Jesus.
Lord, bless this family. Bless them with peace and sweet memories as they navigate this difficult week as they remember this sweet boy. Please give them the knowledge that he is healthy and happy and hanging out with your Son, Jesus. He is waiting for them to all be reunited one day.

Open Letter to A Brother Who Left This World Too Soon

 

Dear Z,

It has almost been six years without you, and I don’t feel it has gotten any easier. This wound is taking forever to heal. I miss you so much, and naturally, I wish you were here with me. This is my least favorite time of year. I know you are watching over me and taking care of me. 

I Wish You Could Answer Me

I’d give anything to have one final conversation with you or give you one last hug. If I could go back and change things, I would. I would have stayed by your side through it all. I think about that all the time. Does it make me a bad sister for leaving you there? I could have taken whatever our stepfather threw at me to stay with you.

Missing All The Things

My mom told me a few years ago that you asked for me every day. You asked when I was coming back from dad’s. You know I like to take care of people. I took care of you for the longest time. Honestly, I miss waking up at 3 in the morning to refill your feeding pump. I miss helping you walk around, even though you protested the entire time. For six years, I have been waiting for you to appear in front of me. To give me a chance to tell you my final goodbye. To tell you I loved you just one more time. 

It Hasn’t Happened, so I’ll Keep Waiting.

I think I can finally start to let go of the regret I’ve had for the past six years. It’s time. You know I love you more than words could ever describe. I know your biggest fear of death was being forgotten, but you are unforgettable. You made an impact on everyone’s life. I will never forget you or the things you did for me. 

You were one of my best friends. I promise you my kids will know what a fantastic man you were. They will know how strong you were and how hard you fought. They will know that you are my hero, and I aspire to be as strong and brave as you were. 

After Six Years, I Can Let You Go and Let You Rest in Peace

That doesn’t mean I will forget about you. It means I don’t have to worry about you hating me for leaving. I know you loved me as much as I loved you. I know you weren’t upset about us leaving Mom. I’m just upset she wouldn’t let you stay with us. 

I am letting go of my regret because it wasn’t my fault you got sick. I was a child, and I know it wasn’t my responsibility to take care of you. I am moving on and trying to start the new year off right. Thankfully, I know you will be with me and watching over me every step.

Love,

S

 

Depression, Guest Blogger, Medical Issues, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

The Real Truth About Death and Grief

Barefoot Faith Journey

The Real Truth About Death and Grief

In The Real Truth About Death and Grief, my guest blogger goes through her emotions of losing her brother at a very young age.  The loss of a sibling is devastating to the other children, as well as, the parents.  It is unimaginable pain that lingers for so very long.

The Real Truth About Death and Grief

Dearest Z,

A kid my age I knew from school came in, and he reminds me so much of you. He has something wrong with him medically, and he walks just like you did when you got sick. I saw him, and that made a bad day worse. Seriously, I wanted to give him a big hug. Then, I tried to crawl under the register and cry. I miss you so much. It has been five years. I can’t believe it. You deserve to be here, bub. I think that you would be married with a family now. You would be a good dad.

Honest Prayer

I prayed to God every night for years that it was me instead of you. Honestly, I prayed that I could take all your pain away. I wanted to make you better, and I couldn’t. That seems to be a recurring theme in my life. I joke about you being dead, but that’s how I cope with you being gone. 

I’m sorry we left you with mom. I’m sorry I didn’t stay with you that last year. I would have gone through whatever Tim threw at me to be with you last year. Mom told me about how you asked for me every day after your seizure, and that story hurts my heart. She told me about how you thought you saw me running around the foot of your bed every night before you went to bed. I am sorry I wasn’t there for that. I wish I were there to be running around your bed. 

Life isn’t the same without you. I missed your voice, hugs, and yelling at me when I tried to help you walk. Honestly, I miss you, dude. You were a light to anyone who knew you, and I miss your presence.

Thankful

Today, I am thankful for the beginning of healing. I have an awareness of where healing needs to happen. Also, I know the route that must be taken to walk through the pain that leads to healing.