Roseann on: How Many Siblings Do You Have?

Mundane questions that tripped me up after my sister Carrie died

The months and years following my sister’s death were littered with tears, silences, and the quiet ache of learning how to live without her. There were moments of joy when reminiscing about the past, often followed by sadness and guilt: sadness that I would no longer make new memories with Carrie, and guilt for the things I may have done, or failed to do, while she was here. These feelings were deeply internal, though they sometimes surfaced outwardly through tears or in conversations about my sister with those I knew and loved. What I did not expect was how those private emotions would be layered with an external social burden: trying to answer seemingly mundane questions people ask in everyday conversation.

One question I found deeply burdensome was, “How many siblings do you have?” It is a completely mundane question and a fairly standard one when getting to know someone. However, the social burden I felt around it was enormous. How do I answer such a question when I am so profoundly sad? Do I say that I have four siblings, with the fear that I may start to cry in front of a complete stranger if I have to say anything more about them? Or do I mention my living siblings only? Yet that answer felt rooted in guilt and shame, as though I were trying to forget her or push her out.

This was a real burden and internal struggle for me during that time of profound grief. Now that I have moved through the heaviest part of that grief and made peace with this question, I can see how long I struggled with it. I even created little social rules for myself to follow when asked. If I was speaking one-on-one with someone I had talked to a few times, I would answer honestly because it felt safer; if I shed a few tears, I worried less about their reaction. However, if there was more than one person, or if I had only just met them, I would answer with three siblings and leave it at that. This often brought guilt and sometimes embarrassment if we became closer and I then had to explain that I actually have four siblings, hoping they had not remembered my earlier answer. These small choices were part of a much longer and deeper struggle with grief.

This pattern stayed with me for a long time. It is only within the past year or two that I have stopped feeling the social burden attached to it. Now, when asked, I answer with four. I no longer fear that sadness or grief might rise to the surface.

Roseann, top centre, with all four siblings on her wedding day

I am not sure what changed. Perhaps I am older now and understand that it is okay to show emotion. Perhaps something within my body has reconciled, and my mind has finally caught up, allowing the two to work together instead of against each other when the question is asked. Or perhaps it is something else entirely.

What I do know is that I can feel my body relax when I answer. It is a small shift, invisible to anyone else, but one I have noticed deeply. It is the kind of change that can only be understood by the person who once carried the weight of the question.