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Key points
- It's not uncommon for the sober sibling left behind to want to talk to a sister or brother who is gone.
- Writing to a sibling who has passed away from alcohol or substance use disorder is one way to bridge the gap.
- A letter can voice sadness but also remind one of the good times.
Dear Bob,
I thought of you this morning. I think of you many days, and today I’m writing a letter because it’s better than telepathy. There’s no reason not to use your real name now since you’ve been gone for over 15 years. You signed a release allowing me to use it when you were alive, but I wanted to protect your anonymity, so I always gave you a different name anyway then. “No,” you had said when I asked if you minded me writing about you. “Hopefully, anything you write will help others.” That was so generous of you, and the side of you I try to remember.
Your response also showed self-awareness of the terrible path you went down when alcohol and drugs took over your life. I don’t like to think of the trouble you got into and how you’d disappear from time to time when things weren’t going well for you, but the thoughts come unbidden. Can you imagine how scary it was not knowing where you were, if you were in jail, or if you were O.K.? And your anger, if only you could have turned that around and used that energy for something positive.
I used to get so frustrated when, for example, I’d run into your ex-girlfriend’s sister, and she’d ask, “He’s so smart and has such potential. Why does he do the things he does?” But if I had a difficult time talking to others about you, it was just as difficult as it was to try and talk to you about your disease. I tried, I really did, especially when things went downhill for you. Do you know how much I wanted your recovery to work out? “You can do this, Bob,” I’d say. “I know you can.”
I can’t tell you how much the tragedy of your life affected me. Many people recovered, but you were in the group that did not. Intellectually, I know that your sobriety was up to you, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing your life and our relationship had been different. You were my little brother, and it’s not that I wanted to take care of you; I just wanted more of a relationship, or at least one on a more even keel. Your ex-girlfriend’s sister had it right—you had such potential.
Whenever I remember something you did that makes me sad or angry, I try and think of us as kids. I still recall the two of us sitting on the living room floor in front of the TV watching a Disney movie together, although I can’t for the life of me recall which one. I also see us sitting at the kitchen table after dinner one night when everyone else has left the room. We had great fun stirring our ice cream until it was soup. A few years later, you became a star baseball player in grade school, and later still, I found the newspaper article praising your talent that Mom had kept.
When you think about it, it’s not only you who has had potential. It was our relationship, too, and I’m not the only sibling in this boat.
Rest in peace, Bob.
