Summary

Richard, the youngest of seven siblings, reflects on the profound grief of losing his last brother, Joe, and the cumulative impact of losing all his brothers, acknowledging the deepening sorrow with each loss while finding solace in memories and the clarifying perspective on life that these experiences bring.

Abstract

The article is a poignant reflection by Richard, who has just lost his last brother, Joe, to death. This loss marks the passing of all his brothers, leaving him with a deep sense of grief that intensifies with each family member's departure. Despite the inevitability of death, Richard grapples with the pain of his brothers' absence, particularly the severed connections and shared experiences that can no longer be revisited or deepened. He reminisces about the unique qualities and moments shared with each brother, emphasizing the significance of the small, everyday interactions that constitute a life well-lived. Richard, a pastor, acknowledges the Christian hope in the afterlife but also the very real human emotion of grief that comes with loss. He finds some comfort in the memories and the wisdom that each loss imparts, inspiring him to embrace life with greater fervor. The article concludes with Richard seeking understanding and insight into his feelings, inviting readers to share in his quest for meaning amidst the sorrow of successive losses.

Opinions

Richard believes that grief intensifies with the loss of each loved one, affirming that the answer to his question about whether grief worsens with each loss is a resounding "YES."
He holds the view that the essence of our existence is not defined by grand events but by the small details and vibrant relationships we maintain.
Richard emphasizes the importance of cherishing and maintaining relationships with siblings despite political or ideological differences.
He suggests that death clarifies the value of life, leading him to hold onto life with more passion after each brother's passing.
Richard shares the sentiment that the spirits of our loved ones continue to live on through our memories, even after their physical bodies are gone.
He quotes Pericles to illustrate that the true legacy one leaves behind is woven into the lives of others, which deeply explains his grief.
Richard finds solace in the belief that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord, indicating his faith informs his perspective on death.
He reflects on Helen Keller's view of death as passing into another room, expressing that with each brother's death, his vision of life becomes clearer.
Richard admits to needing help to understand why being the last son living matters so much to him and how to cope with being the sole remaining uncle for his nephews and nieces.
He echoes Thackery's thoughts on love and loss, suggesting that love transcends death, and those we love remain with us in some form.

I Lost My Last Brother Now What?

Remember the small details of life.

Does grief worsen with the loss of each loved one? How do I find the answer to this? There were four, now all have departed.

The phone rang. It was Beth, my niece.

Uncle Richard, “I don’t know how else to say it, but my dad, your brother, Joe, died this morning.”

Joe on the left and I this past November

It was Wednesday; I guess Death doesn’t wait till Friday or the weekend. Death delivers its gut-punch whenever it pleases. It wasn’t unexpected, but I grieved none-the-less. I’m grieving the loss of my brother. But, the loss of the other three deepens my grief.

I’m the youngest of seven. The two oldest in the family are my sisters. Yes, that’s present tense. My sisters are 92 and 89.

The Armstrong line had nine in number, now only three remaining.

Now what?

“Death ends a life, not a relationship.” Morrie Schwartz in Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom

Yes, I know the scripture reads, we do not grieve as those who have no hope. But we do grieve — grief, multiplied by four.

I’m living the answer to my question. Does grief worsen with the loss of each loved one? The answer is a resounding, YES! All my brothers are dead; now, only I remain.

I’m a pastor, and I do funerals. I know the inescapable is only a thought, not reality. Death reminds us life has a timestamp.

We bury their bodies, but their spirits live on, and we hold tight the memories.

“What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others” — Pericles — 447 AD

The phrase, ‘woven into the lives of others’ explains my grief to a greater degree. My four deceased brothers weaved strings around my life, and now those strings are loosed. I cannot tie the knots tighter with any of them. It’s over.

My brothers, do not accept phone calls, nor do they open the door for my visits. But each holds a memory for me.

Joe was the only one of my brothers to earn a Master’s degree in Social work. He was chief of Social Work for over thirty years at various V.A. hospitals. Joe and I were polar opposite politically, and we had fun with our differences. We lived in the same polling district at one time. He was in line to vote with one person between us. Joe looked back at me, saying, “so your here to vote,” I replied, “Yes, I’m here to cancel out your vote.” The man between us dropped his jaw in disbelief. Joe and I had a good laugh. Love your siblings, do not let politics separate you.

Joe steamed corn on the cob over a wood fire, and the whole tribe of us ate, told jokes, and laughed. We had a horse and a pony when I was young. Paul took me for rides in the pony cart. John let me use his Buick to take my driver’s test. Art fixed everything I broke. These scenes are stamped in my memory and will never happen again.

Did you notice what I wrote above, my memories are the small details of life, not the monumental happenings? We build memories in keeping vibrant relationships.

All four brothers and Mom and Dad are gone from this life now. I hear this song in my mind most night lately as I go to sleep. Written by my former pastor, Ira Stanfill, Supper Time

We are confident, yes, well pleased rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord. II Corinthians 5:8

So, Now what?

Why does each successive Death of a sibling deepen the grief?

Helen Keller said, “Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there’s a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see.” I’m not blind as was Helen, but now life has become more clear to me. For me, with each brother’s Death, I see life better. Yes, the grief remains, but now I hold onto life with more gusto than before.

It has taken me over a week to write about my brothers. Deep thoughts about Death and dying reveal thoughts I’m dealing with

I’m the last son living. Why does it matter so much? I need some help with this one.
When the nephews and nieces cry, Uncle, I’m it. The one and only, not so great.
Life’s but a stage, and soon we exit left. Then we become a memory.

If we love still those whom we lose, can we altogether lose those whom we love?” — Thackery

I’m on a quest to understand what I’m feeling. Can you give me some insight?

Thanks for reading,

Richard