There are moments in Life: How the death of my sister changed my life and why family is so important. Part 1
Life hurts sometimes. I mean it really hurts. I have been through my share of pain over the past few years. I lost a childhood friend to COVID, then my brother-in-law suddenly, and I thought those losses were possibly the worst feelings in the world — to see someone one day seeming healthy and the next day gone, just like that. Still, nothing could have prepared me for the depth of sorrow I would feel with the death of my sister.
There is a lot of context surrounding my grieving of my sister’s death. First, my sister passed away on December 20th, 2024, after a two-year battle with glioblastoma, a very aggressive form of brain cancer, and she fought valiantly the whole time. Losing her was devastating, and it was an extremely dark and painful period for me as I struggled to process the shock, sorrow, and the many small details of what her illness and passing meant for me.
My sister was one of four sisters I have. However, she and my youngest sister were the two I actually grew up with. My father had two other daughters with different women after he and my mother separated. I was very young when that happened, but I do have occasional memories of him being with us.
To understand what my sister's death meant to me is to lay out the foundational context that shaped our family and its struggles. For starters, my mom grew up in a group home until she turned eighteen, which affected how she parents and how we experienced stability. My biological father was largely absent from our lives, leaving gaps and unanswered questions. My younger sister had a different father who later became my stepfather, and that relationship was marked by turmoil and abuse that shadowed much of my childhood.
But this isn’t me whining about those past journeys — that’s for my therapist, LOL. This is about the importance of not letting conflicts escalate to the point of no return in family struggles.
NOW
Let’s return to the beginning of the story…
Two years earlier my sister and I had just reconnected after more than a decade without any communication. Yes, you read that right — a whole decade. We reconnected when I happened to learn about her situation; she had just undergone surgery to remove a tumor from her brain about this time two years ago.
To understand why we had no communication for over a decade is to understand our mother and the circumstances of her upbringing. In my family there was constant turmoil and recurring conflict that shaped how we related to one another. I am not here to present anyone else's perspective — only my own. Because of this, my wife and I decided that, in order to protect our children and to raise them in a healthy, stable environment, It was best to cut ties. It became a bit overwhelming for us, and our boys were starting to feel somewhat neglected, so stepping away seemed the healthiest choice.
So, we did just that. We chose to break the cycle because we believed it was the healthiest way to raise our boys, and with the arrival of my daughter it became the best path for all of us. I was once told by a youth pastor and a peer that it only takes one phone call. I resented those comments for a long time, because the calls always seemed to come from me — until finally it was time for the tides to shift.
Family challenges can be the worst. Why? Because the people closest to you are the ones you expect to love you, stand by you, and invest time and effort into building a caring, supportive relationship. Unfortunately, that isn’t always how things turn out, and when those expectations are unmet it can make the hurt feel deeper and more confusing.
The last two years that my sister and I reconnected felt as if we had never been apart. We had so much to catch up on and we talked for hours about everything. So when my sister began to deteriorate around September of last year, I prayed every day that God wouldn’t take her from me. Even so, I was painfully aware that the survival rate for her illness was extremely small. In the weeks leading up to her passing we spoke constantly, revisiting our shared past, unpacking old hurts, talking about our parents, and listening as she expressed her feelings while facing the inevitable. It was difficult and often painful, yet it also proved unexpectedly therapeutic. My sister and I managed to find common ground on many matters, accept responsibility for things we may have done to one another, and ultimately offer each other forgiveness.
But in the back of my mind… I was incredibly scared, quietly hopeful, and determined to stay as optimistic as I could for both me and her.
Next week I will continue this story….. in Part 2
Tony
“In Life you have to be sick and tired of being sick and tired”
-Tony Robbins
