The Love Of A Sister And The Trauma Of Loss

*Normally Thursdays are my days to post about something regarding Special Needs and Disability. This week, this post was posted on Tuesday due to it being World Autism Awareness Day.  So if you came here looking for that post,  just click on the previously published post to find it.

There is a pond a short walk down the road from my parents home. It’s a pond I have never been to. A pond I will never go to. Yet this pond represents the terrible trauma of loss and fear in my life.

This pond represents profound grief and overwhelming sadness that I don’t take out and examine often because it overwhelms.

A Brother

You see, it was there in this pond that my brother, Daniel, lost his life.

I was 13 when he was born. He was 13 when he died.

A red-haired, blue-eyed boy that was full of life, energy, and laughter. I was a second mother to him.

He was the first boy who ever stole my heart.

I was the one who put him to bed at night. I would sing him to sleep and read his favorite book “Doctor Dan the Bandage Man” until we could both repeat it without the book verbatim.

An extremely verbal child, by the time he was a year old he could sing the words to 3 songs. As he grew, he was fascinated by the world around him. How many people do you know read the Encyclopedia from cover to cover? (Back when they existed that is…) This earned him the nickname of “The Walking Encyclopedia of Useless Knowledge.”

He wasn’t a serious kid. This was a kid who wondered what would happen if you put fireworks into the pig’s slop bucket. . . I’ll leave it to your imagination as to how that turned out. He performed this experiment just outside the front door, with the door open. šŸ˜‚

It happened one day when he went swimming with friends in the pond. There was a dingy that they would row into the middle of the pond, jump from the boat and swim to shore. One of the times when doing this, the dingy overturned unexpectedly. Daniel for some reason never made it out of the pond alive. The horrible trauma of the loss will always remain with me.

A Daughter

Last summer we sent our daughter to spend a week with her Grandmother and Cousins in another state. She was going to have a fabulous time.

But. . .

One of the favorite things to do at Grandma’s house is going swimming at Aunt Tawnya’s pool a couple of doors down. I knew that she would be surrounded by cousins, Aunts, and Grandma, and she knows how to swim. But I wasn’t going to be there. She was going to be a couple of states away and would be swimming. My heart went to my throat every time I thought about it. She is my baby, my child. How can I not be there? This brought back the trauma of loss every time I thought about it.

But there comes a time as a Mom, despite your own traumas you have experienced that you have to let go. You have to let your child spread their wings. Even if it brings you to your knees.

My brother, my precious, wonderful, precocious brother is gone. It’s been 14 years without you. You’ll always remain in my heart.

20 thoughts on “The Love Of A Sister And The Trauma Of Loss

  1. I am so sorry for you and your family to have experienced this tragedy. I think you have a reason to worry about your daughter swimming and I’m sure she understands your concerns too.
    Thank you for sharing this with us at #TriumphantTales. I hope to see you back this week.

  2. Your words brought tears to my eyes tonight. Thank you for opening your heart to share such a deep grief, and for sharing your bravery to trust God even in the midst of the fear that returns. He does ask us each to trust Him like that. Your words are an encouragement.

  3. So sorry for your loss. It’s true that we mourn our loved ones our whole life, and it’s good for us to let our sorrow be heard by a God who cares and bears our grief.

  4. Such a poignant post and courageous of your to share it as it will of course remain a very raw grief. The part about your daughter and letting our children grow and move away from us that bit made me feel tearful probably because I have 3 teenagers. Thanks for an utterly beautiful post. #TwinklyTuesday

  5. Thank you for sharing this with us and the pain. I think it was brave of you to let your daughter go even though what happened to your brother will always be with you. I can’t imagine what that feels like but I agree that you have to give your kids their freedom as time goes on because they’re going to get older and they’ll not going to live with you under your wings forever.

  6. Oh my, I am so, so sorry. My mother was terrified of water and could not swim. I’m not sure why she was so afraid but she took us to swimming lessons and made sure we could swim. It must have been hard for her to take us and watch us. I had never thought about it from her perspective until I read your post. Saying a prayer for you.

    Teresa from NanaHood

  7. I pray the Lord delivers you from grief, it is a terrible thing, and I am sorry for your loss. The enemy has way of ensnaring us with painful memories but you also shared the good ones. I’m sure you daughter had a great time and you said it best with these words, “You have to let your child spread their wings. Even if it brings you to your knees. “, if you don’t mind I’d like to quote you on that in one of my new angel blog, Mother’s Day posts.

  8. I am sorry for you, your family and his friend’s loss. That is super traumatizing. I hope that your daughter has an amazing time and that you can find a way to exhale. Positive thoughts and prayers for you; as you navigate thru this new territory. May your brother’s Memory be Eternal <3

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