“……I was afraid to dream because my dreams were broken.”

My brother died on a Monday afternoon as did his mother in-law, whose life he took that day. From the moment that I got the call from my father, about what had transpired earlier that day, my heart exploded into pieces. It was only hours ago, in the very early morning, that he and I spoke. I’m still not sure what hurt more in that moment when my father called; the fact that my brother had died so tragically or that our last conversation was only hours earlier and there would be no more talks. Ever.

In an instant, our connection was forever altered. I felt the break inside me, like when you’ve dropped a penny down a deep well knowing you will never see that penny again; but wishing that you could hold on to it.  He was gone and today was not only his last on this earth, but it marked our last conversation. I would later look back on the time that we spent chatting that morning and feel immensely grateful that we spoke. My brother and I lived almost 3,000 miles a part, on different coasts, for the last 15 years. Our conversations were everything, even when they were unpleasant. It was our time together. I miss that. I will always miss our conversations.

That evening, as I packed my bags to catch the first flight home, I felt exhaustion from the day. My body, my soul had been through the wringer, and I knew a good night’s sleep would help. As I laid my head on the pillow and my sobbing began to lessen, the impossible happened. I could not close my eyes. I stared blankly at the curtain in my room. Thoughts of my brother’s body lying, cold and alone in the place where he died – with no family member there yet to come take him. I could feel my chest tighten as the cries began to build again. His absence in my life had already begun, and I haven’t even seen his body. Where did he go? Why did he go? Why this way?

The thoughts inside my head would not quiet themselves so, I decided to go watch a movie. This would be what I needed to help me sleep. I put on a film that I saw, only once, but I was moved by the performances. The Queen, starring Helen Mirren, would ease my mind. As I watched this film, only hours after our tragedy, I saw things so differently - for now I had been struck by grief. Moments that I remembered from watching it previously faded into the back, while new moments stood out. The biggest of them all, was that my brother had died on the same day as Diana, Princess of Wales, only 23 years later. I was shocked that this day in August that caused such sadness for one family and for the world who mourned a Princess – now touched down again. It got us and left the word tragedy forever stained in our history.

It would be months until I slept through the night again. I was afraid that I would close my eyes and my mind would ease. In doing this, a clue or a missed moment would be lost that would explain why this happened. If I stayed awake, I could figure it out. I was afraid to dream because my dreams were broken. During a support group call, where I found such solace and peace, another loss survivor mentioned meditating. She had meditated every day for one year after the loss of her sister to suicide. The practice of calming herself, relaxing her mind and giving over to the meditative state helped. So, I gave that a try and much to my surprise it did help. Tremendously.