Two brothers: A story on love and loss

By Terry Connor

A wedding day is supposed to be the happiest day in anyone’s life. It is not supposed to be one of our saddest moments. The above picture was taken on May 25, 2014—my wedding day, with the love of my life, Greg. While it represents both my happiest day, it is also my saddest reminder as it ended up being the last time I would see my older brother, Brian.

Growing up, Brian was certainly the more popular, good-looking, and athletic sibling in our large Catholic family of seven children. He had a killer smile that could always get him out of any trouble he might be in. His senior year in high school, he bought a tuxedo as he went to four separate proms—again, he was well-liked, loved, and now, very much missed.

Greg and I had celebrated 11 years together and decided to get married in a civil ceremony in Marblehead, Massachusetts. My youngest sister, Colleen (an attorney), officiated the ceremony, and my youngest brother, Danny, stood up as my best man. Greg’s brother, Brad, was his best man. It was the perfect day.

We were married in the backyard garden of the Harbor Light Inn, our favorite place to stay when we would visit my sister and her family over the years. It was a small ceremony, just as we always wanted, with only 15 guests, including Greg, myself, and our closest friends and family. It was this small group that we wanted to be a part of witnessing our special day as marriage equality for same-sex couples was just beginning to cascade in acceptance across the country.

My older brother, Brian, reached out to me and asked if he could attend. I was honestly surprised because I thought our wedding might be uncomfortable for him, knowing his own internal challenges. He told me he would arrange to make it possible that my mother could join us from out of town, which was a huge help.

Brian had seemed so happy to celebrate this day with us. Unfortunately, just three weeks later, he took his life. In looking back, his reason for coming to our wedding was to say goodbye to me and Greg.

When a friend or family member commits suicide, it’s not uncommon for people to look back and reflect, realizing the individual’s state of mind and state of peace. While Brian did struggle with depression at times in his life, he had shared with me that he was not at peace with his sexuality.

He struggled most of his life with wanting to come out as gay but was not able to reconcile that decision with his personal religious beliefs. He had shared with me that he had even gone through conversion therapy to get rid of his gay feelings. I believe that this just further enhanced his personal struggles with depression, as he was not able to fully accept himself or his true feelings.

I look back and so wish Brian would have reached out for help because he had so many other options for himself other than this final, fatal one he chose. He could have forged for himself a new path of personal acceptance and happiness.

From this personal tragic experience, I cannot stress the importance enough that if you or someone you love is struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts, please reach out to the many resources able to help. One is the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, which is available any time day or night or to chat online. Crisis Text Line also provides free, 24/7, confidential support via text message to people in crisis at 741741.

Another is the Trevor Project. Founded in 1998, it supports over 150,000 youths annually through free and confidential suicide prevention and crisis intervention services, including a 24/7 phone lifeline, chat, and text support at 1-866-488-7386.

Suicide is the second leading cause of death among people aged 10 to 34 years old in the LGBTQ community. According to the Trevor Project, 42% of LGBTQ young people “seriously considered” suicide this past year.

I am thankful to our church’s Pastoral Care staff as they reached out to me during this difficult time of loss and grief. When a person loses a loved one to suicide, there is often an added component of shame and embarrassment that isolates the individual with their grief.

I feel so fortunate that our church offers such helpful grief support groups for the community. I was able to attend such a group after my brother’s passing, designed for those who had lost a loved one to suicide. I cannot put in adequate words how helpful, caring, and healing this was for me.

It is hard to believe it is now seven years since my brother’s passing. I think about and miss him often, especially when I look at this last picture of us together on our happiest day.