Is he at your house? - Ellie Osborne Lived Experience

I never had a brother, and Mike never had a sister. When things got serious between his brother and me (some 20 years previous), the two of us just got on, we were the missing piece of family we never knew we needed. To me, he was and always will be my brother.

On the 1st June 2022 life changed, and will never be the same again. After panicked phone calls between family members, it was clear something was very wrong. I had been at work very early that morning and left work promptly. As I drove back from work with the sun slowly rising the panicked phones continuing on speaker phone, the world was so still, so pretty, so peaceful that morning - yet I knew that the peace and stillness was about to be ripped apart. And subsequently, within an hour, it was. 

I remember that day so vividly, the following months, I cannot remember at all - they are just a blur, but that day will forever be etched in my mind. I was a police officer at the time, and you are trained and expected to deliver what is known as the ‘death message’. Never did I expect to be hearing those words said to me by an officer with me being the family member.

I love summertime, being outdoors, and the stillness of early summer mornings. Now they are juxtaposed against a feeling of overwhelming sadness, fear, guilt, and sorrow. It’s the mornings that can get to me. While people were enjoying the morning sun, walking their dog, posting pictures of the sunrise on Instagram his life had ended. Had he thought of his family, did he know how much his friends and family all loved him, was he scared, or maybe he felt relief his pain would be over? We’ll never know the answers, those summer mornings when the sun comes up I ask myself those questions repeatedly, even though there will never be any answers. 

We are a close family, and the gaping hole is evident, in some ways it’s knitted us all more closely together, in others it’s ripped us apart. What’s clear is we all grieve differently, me an emotional wreck, others taking the stiff-upper-lip approach. I’ve always felt guilty for how emotional I got and still get, my husband seems to hold it together, whereas I, at times, have felt like falling to pieces. I’m just the ‘sister-in-law’ - do I have a right to feel this way?

As I said, the months after were just a blur, what did surprise me was how much the grief was in my body,.Even at times when I felt quite ‘together’ my body felt weak, my periods became erratic, sleep was non-existent and I had the most annoying lip quiver. Aside from work, I did little else, and just work was difficult. 

It will be three years this year, I just can’t believe that - I still think about it daily. I talk to Mike every day, I do the best I can for his children and do all I can to keep his memory alive. He was an awesome, amazing person - loved by everyone who knew him and that’s what I want people to remember him by. 

Time heals, to a degree. I think it’s more a case that you learn to live with the sadness. For me, letting the sadness not overwhelm me has been important. I feel it’s important we try to keep living fulfilled lives for Mike (which I often feel guilty about), but I know he would not want his sadness to become our sadness. 

I love you bro, and I miss you!