Welcome back to Hard Beautiful Journey. If you're joining me for the first time or returning for another episode, thank you for being here today. This episode is a deeply personal one, as I talk about something that’s been on my heart: sibling grief and anticipatory grief. Grief has a way of sneaking up on you, doesn’t it? Just when you think you’ve got a handle on it, it brings you to your knees. That's where I found myself this past week.
Last week was tough. A dear friend of mine was moved to hospice care after being diagnosed with terminal cancer. She was my neighbor for many years, and leaving her that day was one of the hardest moments of my life. I knew in my heart it would be the last time I’d see her. The moment was beautiful and heartbreaking all at once. I gave her a copy of my book Dancing in the Rain, and I could see how proud she was of me. Her sister has been reading it to her, which warmed my heart even more. This experience brought me face-to-face with anticipatory grief again.
You see, this isn’t the first time I’ve walked this road. I felt it with my brother, Cory, too. He struggled with addiction, and though I tried to hold out hope, deep down, I knew he wasn’t going to make it to his 50th birthday. He passed at 48. It’s a strange thing, this anticipatory grief. It feels like you’re grieving in advance, preparing for the inevitable, but it doesn't soften the blow when that moment actually arrives. I thought losing Cory might help me navigate grief better, but I was wrong. Grief doesn’t get easier; it just changes form.
In this episode, I share memories of my brother, moments where I just knew I didn’t have much time left with him. Watching someone you love slip away slowly is like watching a piece of yourself disappear. It’s gut-wrenching and profound.
There’s something so isolating about sibling grief. After Cory passed, I realized how under-recognized sibling grief is in our society. We focus on the loss of parents, spouses, or children—and rightly so. But losing a sibling? That leaves a unique void. You lose someone who shares your history, your childhood, your inside jokes, and your memories.
Anticipatory grief and sibling grief have both been part of my journey, and I hope that by sharing these stories, others who are walking this path feel seen. There’s no “right” way to grieve, and no grief is more important than another. They all matter. You matter.
If you’re experiencing sibling grief, I want you to know that your pain is real, and it’s okay to talk about it. Let’s not minimize the importance of sibling loss any longer.
Thank you for allowing me to share my heart with you today. Remember, you’re never alone in this hard, beautiful journey. Until next week, stay kind, stay strong, and remember—it’s okay to not be okay sometimes.
With love,
Tiff
