The passing of Robin Williams prompted me to ask my older siblings, “How did you explain our brother’s death to your children?” My son was aware that I had a brother who passed away during my childhood, but he didn’t know that my brother had taken his own life.
International Survivors of Suicide Loss Day falls on November 22 this year. Now, at nearly three times the age I was when my brother passed in 1987, and as the mother of two children who are developing a strong sibling bond at ages four and eight, I find myself contemplating the impact of suicide anew. Watching my nieces and nephews reach the age I was when my brother died—just a week shy of fourteen—has made me reflect on how his absence affected my family.
My mother had four children in quick succession, and I arrived nearly nine years later, which made my brother the middle child, ten years my senior. As a child, I often wished to be older, eager to join my siblings in their activities. Childhood felt like a waiting period until I could catch up. Once my siblings left for college, I sometimes felt like an only child.
On that fateful day in February when I learned about my brother’s death, I felt the fracture of our family unit more acutely than the loss of a brother I hardly knew. At that point, I was a self-absorbed teenager, while he was an adult with a job and responsibilities. I already felt isolated in my new environment, and it seemed as if my siblings had no understanding of my life. They lost a brother with whom they shared a childhood, while I felt my grief was insignificant in comparison.
Watching my parents mourn the loss of their child was devastating. It’s hard to fathom the depth of their pain. My mother often expressed her hope that I would never experience the heartache of losing a child. As my son nears his ninth birthday, I realize that I’ve carried a deep-seated fear that my children may not outlive me, a worry that has lingered for years. This fear influenced my desire for a third child, as I couldn’t bear the thought of one sibling losing another and being left alone.
My mother once shared that she felt as though she had lost two children because I had withdrawn into my circle of friends. I promised her I wouldn’t follow my brother’s path, even though I was well aware of the weight of depression; I had felt its presence since kindergarten and witnessed my mother’s struggles. When friends inquired about my brother, “Why did he do it?” I couldn’t provide a clear answer, but I understood the desire to escape and even envied his perceived bravery in making such a choice.
In those early days after his passing, I distanced myself from my family’s pain. I turned to substances like alcohol and marijuana to numb my feelings. Years later, after facing chronic health issues, I explored lifestyle changes that led to significant improvements in my mental health. Eliminating gluten and dairy from my diet lifted the heavy clouds of despair. Practicing meditation and seeking alternative therapies also made a marked difference. I have now been off antidepressants for nearly a decade, navigating my health with care. Sustainable methods became vital in managing my well-being while avoiding the complications of medication.
Recently, I learned of the tragic suicide of a professor from my alma mater. My heart ached for her children and husband, reflecting on the profound legacy of suicide. If the impact of my brother’s death is so heavy for me, what must it feel like for a spouse and children left behind? Yet, from my experiences with depression, I understand that she may have believed her family would be better off without her—a distorted perception that often accompanies mental illness. I am grateful to have found ways to stay resilient, though it requires constant effort.
Some friends may view my protective nature towards my son—shielding him from harmful foods and late bedtimes—as excessive. I fear the internal struggles he may face. I’ve hesitated to share information about my brother, not wanting to plant any seeds of doubt or despair. I recognize that my son leads a sheltered life, untouched by the violence and tragedy that many children face globally. However, the lingering effects of surviving suicide are profound and enduring.
During a recent family vacation, my husband shared the news of Robin Williams’ death with me as we awaited our breakfast. When he mentioned the word “asphyxiation,” my four-year-old repeated it with curiosity, sending me into a spiral of introspection. Mourning the loss of a beloved figure from my childhood, I grappled with how to explain this to my son, including the uncle he would never know.
While watching tributes on the hotel television, I reached out to my siblings for guidance on how they approached the topic with their own children. My husband skillfully diverted us away from the more distressing coverage. It’s now been months since that day, and I’m relieved to say that my son hasn’t sought further information about the actor’s passing beyond our simple acknowledgment that it was sad.
Driving home two days later, we listened to the soundtrack of Frozen, and I was struck by the poignant moment when Anna invites Elsa to play. “Do you want to build a snowman?” she asks, filled with hope yet aware that it may not come to be. I couldn’t help but sob quietly as I pondered the emotional distance that can grow between loved ones. I felt a deep gratitude that my children have each other, yet a new layer of grief emerged as I contemplated the loss of my brother.
Although I have supportive siblings to lean on, my brother’s absence leaves an undeniable void in our family narrative. The love shared between my children reminds me of what was lost, heightening my sense of grief for the brother we all miss. I recognize that fear offers no solutions, and I strive to acknowledge it while envisioning a brighter future for my children.
If you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts, it’s crucial to seek help. Resources such as NHS offer valuable information about mental health and support.
In conclusion, navigating the complexities of loss, especially from suicide, remains a lifelong endeavor. By fostering open communication and understanding within families, we can work toward healing and breaking the cycle of silence surrounding mental health.
Leave a Reply