Meet Maggie
Maggie shares about the heartbreaking loss of her brother, Chris, from suicide.
Tell us a little bit about yourself. We would like to get to know you.
I’m 38 years old and live on a working hobby farm with my fiancée Ben. We have 4 horses, 2 beef calves, 5 chickens, a dog and a barn kitty. It’s been a dream come true to get to where I’m at in my life. One of my passions and future visions for the farm is to invite grievers to the farm offering them a peaceful immersion experience with the animals and to provide a safe space to share their grief and start the long journey of healing. The name of the non-profit run on the farm will be The Grieving Tree Educational Farm.
My grief journey is long and it started with the death of my maternal grandma when I was 3 but I remember her alive. Thus far I’ve had over 20 significant deaths in my life including the death of my only sibling and big brother Chris who was 3 years older than me.
I used to love traveling all over the world and was much more spontaneous but since the death of my brother and living at the farm, so much of that has shifted for me.
I know the loss of your brother was devastating. Can you tell us about the day Chris died?
Chris died in the middle of the day on August 22, 2012. Chris had recently broke up with his girlfriend and I bought him a card and wrote a few encouraging words offering love and support. I sealed it, placed a stamp on it but Chris never received my card. My brother’s ex-girlfriend called me and while she wasn’t straightforward about what had happened, she told me about Chris and I knew I had to call my parents. I lived in North Dakota at the time and was 9 hours away. One of the hardest things about that day was having to call my parents individually and tell them not to go to the hospital.
I tried to pack but couldn’t concentrate or figure out what I needed to bring. I forgot my laptop and drove alone for 9 hours. I remember stopping at McDonalds and ordering 2 or 3 drinks but it was so hard articulating what I wanted. The person waiting on me laughed and I was livid. If they only knew why I couldn’t complete my order they wouldn’t be such a jerk.
Somehow, I made it back to the twin cities. The whole story came out and my parents and I had to notify friends and family. It was very difficult for us to admit that it was suicide. For a while, we said it was a work accident instead of suicide. I couldn’t help but wonder what the signs, triggers or warnings were back then. Chris never talked about it. There was no warning and in a moment he was just gone.
I found out later that he had called some of my friends in North Dakota including a guy I had broken up with, but Chris never called me. I didn’t understand why I didn’t get a final phone call and it took me a long time to come to terms with that piece. Maybe I would’ve picked up on something?
My brother’s death was absolutely devastating and a complete shock. I was in total disbelief and how could this happen? I wanted it to be a sick and terrible joke, but knew he wasn’t going to text, call, pull in the driveway or walk through the back door ever again.
While we were making the funeral arrangements, I kept wanting someone to shake me and tell me Chris didn’t really die. But that never happened. It was hard for my brain to truly organize what happened that day. It didn’t sink in for months. It’s still hard to relive those early days.
What was life like before Chris died?
Chris and I were just getting into the adult friendship phase of our sibling relationship. We would visit each other and talk on the phone often. Chris was an active and sensitive child and he had challenges in school. The school system didn’t have the resources for someone who couldn’t sit for hours on end and do the schoolwork. Growing up with him was challenging but as a teenager and adult, he was coming into his own and directing his energy towards being a successful carpenter. He loved creating things and repairing mud trucks.
In some ways, Chris was growing into the man he was meant to be and at the same time, he was encouraged by family to start his own carpentry business even though no one else in the immediate family were business owners. Starting a business is a huge undertaking. Chris’s strength was completing tasks and jobs but he struggled with the accounting and paperwork side of things and that was difficult for him.
Chris became a father on January 30, 2009. He was so proud, excited, happy, nervous and scared. Chris had a 7 year long relationship with his son’s mom. I believe he did the best he could but, in the end, it didn’t work out. A different relationship had ended at the time of his death. Chris had such a big heart and he really wanted to help people. He was goofy and creative and that showed through when he made a putt-putt golf course and dug out a koi pond in the shape of Minnesota in our yard in our youth.
Society doesn’t necessarily support big strong men who are sensitive and caring. He was 6 foot 2, a lean, tall, handsome guy who was a very hard working carpenter and from the perspective of the world, he was strong and could handle anything. This led to a great deal of emotional and physical pain.
Chris isn’t a statistic. He’s someone’s son, brother, father, cousin, nephew and friend. My Bubbie!
What was it like for you in the early days, weeks and months after Chris died?
It was so hard and I was in total disbelief. The heartache radiated through my whole body and I wondered how I would ever survive. I would wake up every morning and my first thought was, “oh no my brother is gone and I’m still alive.” I knew I was grieving but I didn’t know that I would feel so many different symptoms with grief. My sleep was disrupted, eating was sporadic, and I was completely exhausted, emotionally, physically and in my soul. I had trouble concentrating and even when I tried to read a book I couldn’t get through it and finally gave up.
I had so much rage and if I’m honest, I still have a small amount of rage. I never wanted to be an only child. Chris and I would fight like kids do, but I never once wished I didn’t have a brother. I loved having a sibling and the disbelief and sadness still, are hard to put into words. In part, the rage and anger I felt was because Chris left me. It was supposed to be us. It was supposed to be the two of us making decisions about our aging parents together. It was known that my brother would inherit the grandfather clock. We were supposed to share everything but suddenly, the gift and burden of taking care of our parents falls completely on my shoulders. Alone.
I have had guilt because my friend and I were looking at buying a property and I hadn’t told Chris yet. I thought that my brother could’ve moved out there to help fix up the property when he was struggling, but telling him was no longer an option.
It’s been several years since Chris died and there are no timelines to grief but how would you describe your grief journey and how has your grief changed over the years?
I used to say that I could’ve chosen a different path. I could’ve abused alcohol or drugs and buried my pain but I was conscious enough to know that if I did any of those things, I would have to do the hard work of grief all over again. It was best to do the hard work now.
A year after Chris died I was certified as a Grief Recovery Specialist. I started going to local grief coalitions and The Compassionate Friends, as a group participant and later a speaker. Within two years I was able to build my support system. It was hard because I didn’t have any friends who had lost a sibling, yet alone by suicide.
Now, advocacy work is part of who I am and it’s what I need to work towards feeling whole again. It’s not for everyone but it’s right for me. Also, I was seeing a therapist for other reasons and after Chris died, I continued to see and talk to her. Eventually, I moved back to Minnesota and I was able to find a new therapist that is well trained in trauma and PTSD, EMDR and brain spotting. That was a good fit for me.
My grief journey has been a very active one. Eventually I got to a point where it made sense to share my story and share the possibility of hope, healing and feeling better with others. After a decade, I’m now working on allowing myself to believe that I’m capable of feeling the same depth of joy as I do grief. I need to allow that and invite it in. But, it’s taken this long to believe that I deserve happiness and the good feelings life can bring.
I now laugh about the fact that if it were me that died, Chris would have a completely different way of dealing with it. I’m more public, open and want to share. Chris was more introverted and private. I know he would be proud of me. He was proud of me when he was alive and I was proud of him.
I still struggle with living every day to the fullest. Anything can shift in a moment. It’s taken years but the veil of grief and grief associated depression and sadness has finally lifted in the past 3 years. One of the things I had to do was shift and not associate my love for my brother with holding onto the grief after his death.
How has grief changed life and how has it changed you as a person?
Losing Chris changed the entire trajectory of my life. I think I would have been sympathetic to people losing loved ones to suicide but knowing what it feels like personally, I have dedicated a huge portion of my life to shine a light for others who are grieving too.
It’s tough. Now that I’m an only child – I feel obligated to be physically close to my parents. I lived in CO, AK, ND and if Chris were still alive, I have no doubt I would have added 2 or 3 more states to that list by now. I’m grateful for my life and where I am right now, but my life would have been different.
I’m not the risk taker I used to be because I don’t want my parents to lose two children. There will always be things that are out of my control but people do lose more than one child. If I’m participating in risky behaviors like mountain climbing and horseback riding, it comes with big responsibility and fear.
It’s been a long journey of redefining myself. One of my labels was sibling, sister, sissy. At 28 years old that role was ripped away from me. Who am I now without the one person that shaped and defined my whole life? Who am I now? There’s a definite hardening that happens to a person but if you work on it, you can become softer too.
My tolerance for small talk and BS is much lower. I don’t have time for that anymore. A ton of friendships have shifted to just acquaintances or no contact at all. If I’m honest, the softening is healing for me and to share the value of Chris’s life despite the fact he took it, is important and feels good. It’s not how he died but how he lived.
What was one of the lowest or hardest parts about loss and grief for you?
There were so many mornings that I would wake up and say, “Oh Shit, I’m Alive.” I must live this day because I’m alive. I want to make a clear and distinct line between suicidal ideation and wanting to die. The pain is so much some days, you would rather not have it. I didn’t do anything harmful to take it away, but I still wanted it gone.
Loss of control over my emotions, then beating myself up about it, was the hardest part. I had my first anxiety attack 3 months after Chris died. It was terrifying, on my knees rocking back and forth and just like the Hollywood scenes, I needed a paper bag to blow air into but didn’t have one. It’s what I thought I had to do.
What helped you to cope in the early days?
I had two jobs in North Dakota. I was working with troubled teens and did research on wild horses in a national park. You can’t hide much from teens and while they didn’t know the whole story, they knew my brother died. My story opened up a few conversations with kids who were grieving as well and I started a grief group. It also helped to hike around a national park and exercising while submerged in beauty and nature was healing for me early on. It gave me a reason to keep living.
Joy and grief can exist in the same space. What brings you joy?
I’m grateful to have a partner that invites me to share my grief openly and honestly. I make it a point to be in nature as much as I can. There’s an intuitive essence and calm about horses and they bring me humor, peace and challenge me to grow and expand. I love sitting in the loft and brushing the barn kitty while looking over our property. Finding joy is intentional. You have to create it and it’s not something that just falls into my lap. Everything I have done since Chris died has been intentional, knowing it’s going to hurt right now but knowing the other side of it all might bring me peace.
We live in a society that’s uncomfortable with grief. What do you want the world to know?
I say it doesn’t have to be limited to politicians and educators, but I wish that every politician and educator were trained on the Grief Recovery Method. If they, would better understand how children grieve, we could support children in a healthy way. We know adults are not always modeling a healthy way to grieve therefore, they can’t support anyone else. The politicians are the decision makers of this country, and the educators are helping to raise our future generations. Healthy grieving starts with each of us as individuals.
How can family, friends and colleagues better support those who are grieving?
A non-active griever should have tools in their tool box and learn the language that’s useful to someone who is grieving. Language and words that are actually helpful. Don’t ask the griever to tell you what they need. Just do. Sit with them quietly and have a cup of tea. Watch a movie with them. Go to the grocery store and bring them food or meals. Order a lawn service for the month. Take action.
You’re going through one of the most difficult times of your life and you have to be an advocate for yourself yet you can’t always articulate what you need. That’s when education and guidance from society can be helpful. Babysit. Walk the dog. Offer to do the laundry. Just take action without depending on the griever for guidance.
What helped me the most was a couple of my friends would call often just to check in on me.
Any last thoughts you would like to share with the readers?
I was awarded the Karen Snepp Sibling Award for my advocacy in sibling loss awareness from The Compassionate Friends in August. It was a meaningful award to receive and although it doesn’t bring my brother back, it’s a way to validate his life and honor him. My brother’s life mattered and still matters. Chris isn’t a statistic. He’s someone’s son, brother, father, cousin and friend. Your life matters too. I think if more people were trained and educated on signs and warnings on what could lead to a suicide, the active non-griever might recognize something sooner.
If you could have one more day with Chris what would you say to him or what would you like to do with him?
One of my favorite times with Chris was bird hunting with him. I would love to do that again.
Do you have any resources or ideas that have helped you?
My favorite book is Untethered Soul by Michael Singer
Also, my sibling loss group has put together this book club list:
Saint X by Alexis Schaitkin
I Wasn’t Ready to Say Goodbye: Surviving the Loss of a Brother or Sister at any Age by
Elizabether DeVita-Raaeburn
The Immortalists by Chloe Benjamin
Modern Loss: Candid Conversations about Grief: Beginners Welcome by Rebecca Soffer and
Gabrielle Birkner
Better off Bald by Andrea Wilson Woods
Life is in the Transitions: Mastering Change at Any Age by Bruce Feiler
It’s OK that You’re Not Ok by Megan Devine
Anxiety: The missing Stage of Grief by Claire Bidwell Smith
A comprehensive website about Suicide: https://save.org/about-suicide/warning-signs-risk-factors-protective-factors/
If you would like to reach out to Maggie you can:
Email: MBGriefRecovery@outlook.com or on Facebook at MBGriefRecovery