Facebook gets a mixed rap. Even a bad rap. I certainly have a love-hate relationship with it. I don’t spend time browsing on Facebook, but I do post my writing there. Occasionally, I will scroll to a friend’s page to see what might be going on in their lives, but that’s about it.

Almost two weeks after my eldest brother died, which happened on 23rd December 2025, I finally decided to write and post the note below on Facebook. It was a couple of days into the New Year. While I had wanted to avoid the Christmas and New Year period, I also wanted to acknowledge that a(nother) sibling had died. My announcement caused some distress in the family system, and I was asked to take it down. Since, to my mind at least, the writing was careful, loving, non-inflammatory and as much about my younger brother as my elder one, I have chosen to place it here.  I have now lost two brothers, a best friend, my husband, and my youngest child. It is a lot. And I do not want to be silenced. Here is where I feel free to express myself.

Here, where I live near Switzerland, 2026 has begun with very hard news, including the tragic events in Crans-Montana.

Sadly, in my immediate family, we also received devastating news at the end of 2025. My eldest brother James died on 23rd December, following a short period of acute and insurmountable distress. I am neither able nor willing to share much in the way of details, in part because I know very little myself.

I have gone back and forth on whether to share this news here, and have chosen to do so now.

Many of my Facebook connections are people I have met through previous losses, and you will understand how each fresh loss stirs older ones.

In particular, I ask you to hold his daughters and my parents in your hearts. I am so sorry that my parents must now live with the loss of a second child.

In a few days, on 10th January, it will be ten years since the death of my youngest brother, Edward. He remains very present in my heart and mind, and I will find ways to honour him alongside James.

The photo here is of James and Edward, taken in Hong Kong, probably in the late 1990s. It resurfaced just three weeks ago via a friend of James’s. I look at this image and struggle to understand how two such beautiful, capable men died so young – far too young.

I have learned, truly learned, what it means to carry dead loved ones in my heart. It does indeed (eventually) happen. You are there. Alongside all of my other loves. And it’s still shit.

Go gently, dear James.

Go gently, sweet Edward.

PS – I may not respond much, but I will read your messages with gratitude