Sunday, 5 September 2010

27 . . .

Memories from childhood are generally blurry.

Weirdly enough, I always remember the night of Christmas Eve 1983 more clearly than the memories around them. As this was the night when my little brother Mark died. Another victim of cot death.

I remember when my parents realised that he was no longer breathing. Then I remember me and my sister ending up in a neighbour's house. I don't remember being particularly worried about anything - I was barely four years old. I was enjoying the attention of the neighbours, to be honest.

And then we never saw him again. He was just gone.

I don't think I quite realised what had happened until years later. I remember that me and my sister got Mark's share of the presents too. Less than a year later, my brother Brian was born.

Nowadays, it's something I try not to think about too much. Deep down, I'm quite glad that I was too young to realise what had happened. I was actually quite aware of my mortality really early on in life (I believe I was about eight when I realised I was going to die one day and asked my gran about it - I think she told me not to be so ridiculous) so had I realised back then, I probably would have taken it far harder.

Even now though, when I DO think about it, I get teary. I wonder just how awful my parents felt about it. I wonder why it was HIM that died. I hate the fact I missed out on knowing a sibling.

Today, the 5th September, he would have been 27 years old, had he lived. What would he have been like?

I'll never know.

And that makes me unbelievably sad.

I hope, wherever he is now, he's happy.

Happy Birthday, little brother. xx


  1. *huuuuuuuuuuuuugs*

    I don't understand or fully appreciate what you feel, but all I know is that my Dad and his ex-wife had to suffer a lot of miscarriages.

    And then there was a scandal a few years ago about remains of stillborns being kept at hospitals and not being properly buried and what-not... we weren't really old enough to read the papers and understand the magnitude of the situation, but I remember Mum taking me aside and explaining that my Dad might have been affected by it.


  2. Oh goodness, how sad for you and your parents. Big hugs xx

  3. *big hugs* that's such an awful thing to happen darling, I truly truly feel for you. I can't imaging what it would be like to lose a sibling, but I know what you mean about always wondering about what someone would be like had they lived.
    My brother and his wife lost one of their daughters the day they were born, just before Christmas. The kicker is the baby died because she'd sacrificed her development to save her sister, who's amniotic sac burst and she plugged it. I'm still never sure whether to say my siblings have 7 kids between them or 6, and I never know whether to mention their other daughter or not.

    Perhaps your brother and my neice are keeping each other company :)

  4. It's difficult to know what to say, just know that you are loved x

  5. Oh no that is so sad :( I'm sorry, it must be incredibly difficult for your parents. Hugs!

  6. Gosh you're right that is such a sad sad thing. But how lovely to remember him like this.

  7. You have no idea how much my story mirrors yours P - i know EXACTLY where you're coming from.
    My brother Eli died Christmas Eve, 1989, from sudden onset meningitis. In the morning he was there taking a nap, in the afternoon mum and dad had taken him to the hospital and my brother and i to my nans and by the evening...he was gone. My sister Erin was born less than a year later too.

    I've always thought about it, its only now that i have my own baby son that i can appreciate it more from my parents perspective...

  8. I'm sorry that you had such a loss as a child.
    My mum lost her little brother when he was only a few days old. I know she thinks about him a fair bit.

    Hugs x

  9. What a moving tribute to the brother that you'll never know!

    I'm so sorry you and your family had to go through this. Christmas time must be really difficult for your parents.

  10. I am so sorry for your loss. Having a son, I can't imagine the loss of a child. Being so close to my brother, that my son even shares his name, I am sorry for this terrible loss for you and your siblings. I will be thinking of your family today, and on Christmas Eve.

    Hugs from Houston-

  11. Thanks for sharing it with us. Loads of hugs and kisses to you hun. I'm sure Mark would have been proud of you! ;)

  12. I'm really sorry sweetie. This post is really beautiful, and my thoughts are with you and your brother

  13. Oh my word. I have no idea what to say (this is precisely the kind of social situation that I end up saying completely the wrong thing).

    I'm sorry.

  14. I'm so sorry for your families loss. I know it has to be hard during this time of year. Stay strong. I hate thinking of what if's too.

    Prayers are with you. xoxo.

  15. I'm so sorry for you and your family - but it's lovely that you still cherish and remember Mark. xo

  16. It's so nice that you have kept the memory of your brother alive.


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