Death Does Not End Relationships.

Yesterday was my sister’s birthday. She would have been 52 years young. She died over 27 years ago.

Where has all that time gone?

It took me about three years to begin to realize that if I didn’t start dealing with my grief, it would lead me into a downward spiral, and, possibly an early grave myself. I didn’t want that for me, and I especially didn’t want that for my parents.

What were some of the signals of that downward spiral?

My eating habits were a big one. I would overeat to block off the painful feelings. If I was stuffed all the time, my body had to work so hard at digestion that it pulled my focus away from the pain. I have to put my drinking in this category too. I used it as a way of checking out. Being buzzed took the sting out of my struggles. Just another delay tactic for dealing with the hard stuff.

Another unconscious pattern working against me was a deeply conditioned belief: I am a loser.

During my formative years, I was picked on for being the short, fat kid, always picked last for sports. I was definitely the odd one out. I didn’t have many friends and was made fun of daily. So when Lauren died, it felt like just one more confirmation of that story I had been telling myself.

When Lauren died, I made a vow that I would not let her car accident kill me too.

I wasn’t keeping that vow.

In fact, I was headed in the same direction.

What I did next changed everything.

I started talking to her.

I would sit cross-legged on the floor (you can use a chair if you’re not flexible), close my eyes, and talk to her as if she were alive. I would picture us sitting on a bench in our hometown park, just connecting. I’d fill her in on my life, the things she hadn’t been around for. I’d ask her advice about challenges with Mom and Dad. I’d even ask her how things were going wherever she was.

Most of the time, I ugly-cried through the whole thing.

It wasn’t easy. But I knew it was necessary.

Over time, those conversations shifted from a formal practice to something I did while walking through the grocery store or sitting on the couch. Now they live in the work I do and in emails like this one. I connect with Lauren through these words.

I have alchemized my mess into my message.

When Lauren was alive, our relationship was tumultuous, as most sibling relationships are. We were close at times. Distant at times. We fought at times. And we loved each other all the time.

Strangely enough, I feel our relationship is better now than when she was alive—because now, it’s just about the love.

Reactivate your relationship with them.

Yesterday, we had a birthday party for her. I wore a piece of jewelry that reminds me of her. Have the conversations. Invite people to eat their favorite food (for Lauren, it was cheesecake). Wear their favorite color. Sing their favorite song.

It is never too late.

Go with power,
Jason

Try this Simple Practice:

Stay in Relationship

Step 1: Create a small pause
Sit somewhere quiet. You can close your eyes or soften your gaze. Take one slow breath in through your nose and a longer breath out through your mouth. No fixing. Just arriving.

Step 2: Invite them in
Picture the person you’re connecting with. Don’t force an image, just a sense of them. Imagine them nearby, the way they felt when they were alive. Let it be natural.

Step 3: Speak honestly

Talk to them out loud or silently. Share what’s been happening in your life. Ask them a question. Tell them what you miss. You don’t need the “right” words, just real ones.

Step 4: Close with something physical
End by doing one small, tangible thing that reminds you of them: touch a piece of jewelry, play a song, take a bite of their favorite food, step outside, or place a hand on your heart. Let that be the bridge back into your day.

Important note (and this matters):
You’re not trying to feel better.
You’re staying connected in a way that doesn’t abandon yourself.