Joy Comes Through the Mourning
By: Lexi Reichman

Alan came into this world on Valentine’s Day with a mission: to love beyond imaginable capacity. He had the ability to make every single individual feel like they were the most important person in the room. His enthusiasm for life made all the mundane moments feel grand. Even on the night of his passing he was charming the room with his smile and magic, sucking the helium from a balloon to make his voice sound high pitched (just like when we were kids), and having random strangers fall in love with that magnetic heart of gold of his.

He harbored the unique talent of knowing exactly how to push my buttons to hysterical laughter…and sometimes tears; those of you who grew up with brothers understand that this is a very delicate line. I love that our adult relationship transformed us from siblings who loved each other most of the time to friends who could truly lean on each other. I did not realize how important the identity of "sister" was to me until August 21, 2021. My world completely stopped, and I had no roadmap for how I was supposed to continue breathing, let alone live a joyful life some day in the future I now dreaded. I did not want to experience a future in a world where my tender, playful, hilarious, and curious big brother Alan no longer existed. The two weeks following his death by suicide felt like an eternity.

Time still feels that way.

The words “Joy comes in the morning” as a message of hope seemed so far from the reality I was living. I decided at that moment that if joy is not coming in the morning, it might come through the mourning.

When it was time to leave my hometown of El Paso and return to my life in Dallas after his funeral, I felt isolated and disconnected from my friends and the community I had built here because most people did not know Alan. While it felt like everyone in El Paso stopped to mourn his loss—or maybe I just have a big family—Dallas felt like the opposite. The city was just as bustling as ever before, the happy hours continued, and aside from virtual check-ins from family and a few friends intentionally checking on me, I felt that my wife and I were alone in remembering our brother Alan and processing his death. I hadn't considered that most twenty-something-year-olds had not experienced a loss like this, and so my friends did not have a roadmap on how to support me.

Around the same time, my therapist let me know she was having to take some time off for medical reasons and I felt even more alone. Before we paused sessions for her leave, I asked her for any grief groups or resources that she thought could help me. The Grief & Loss Center was the first resource she named.

I tried two groups simultaneously. A few days after attending the group that didn't feel like what I needed, I had my introductory call with Laurie and knew immediately that I had found my grief home. Laurie’s genuine compassion and care at the beginning of my journey following the loss of Alan was life-changing. She asked me to tell her about him and it gave me hope knowing that his story did not end on August 21, 2021. 

24 days after the unimaginable, I attended my first young-adult group meeting at The Grief & Loss Center. From the very first time I attended, I felt so seen and validated through the sisters, children, and friends of other beautiful beings who lost their lives. All too soon for all of us. Our grief journeys paralleled each other and helped me realize that I was no longer a lone ship in a dark and scary sea. Laurie and the Grief & Loss Center acted as our lighthouse, illuminating us and our stories, providing reassurance, and bringing us to the safe island where we “hug the cactus," prioritize our needs, share memories of our loved ones, and remember that our loss has not been forgotten. The lighthouse reaches and welcomes ALL, regardless of your type of loss, age, religion, or financial status. It is a privilege to sit in our monthly meetings and mourn for and with each other. The Grief & Loss Center showed me that joy can come through mourning and that, with the right people by my side, this journey doesn’t need to feel so lonely.