How I Honored The Brother I Lost By 'Closing The Loop'

How to close the loop of grief.

By Diane Quintana
Last updated on Jan 30, 2024

Photo: cottonbro studio | Pexels, gilaxia | Canva

Closing the grief loop by gathering with family

As a professional organizer, one of the things my clients will often hear me say is, "Remember to close the loop." What does this mean?

Well, it means to finish the task. There's a natural cycle to tasks and they are not finished until all the steps involved in doing the task are completed.

If we're talking about laundry, that task is not done until the laundry is put away.

How my family closed the loop after tragedy struck

Like many families, we lost my brother during the pandemic lockdown.

He didn't have the disease but died suddenly from a massive heart attack. He was too young.

At 61, he had a lot of life yet to live. Charles was a social guy. He thrived on being in a crowd and entertaining anyone who would listen.

I know that like many others who live alone, the circumstances of the lockdown made him sad and lonely.

Of course, we shared text messages and occasional phone calls, but those didn’t help Charles since he longed to be in the presence of people. He had just moved to Stonington from Madison, Connecticut.

He and I had a few calls about organizing his new home. I let him know he would feel more settled when he finished unpacking the boxes. Once again, close the loop. This was not to be.

It was November 1st, All Saints Day when I got the news that my brother had passed.

My two sisters and my other brother, along with Charles’s son and a few of the cousins, decided to meet at a small chapel in the funeral parlor in Connecticut a few days later.

Even though we're a close family, we were all a little fearful. We met outside the chapel and gave each other quick little hugs.

Of course, we were all masked and staying a respectful 6 feet apart. We didn’t want to get too near each other.

There we were, in this chapel to which we had no connection, listening to a priest we didn’t know, while he rushed through some hasty prayers.

Once back outside, we got into our respective cars and drove to a local restaurant that had somehow managed to stay open. We shared a meal and then parted ways.

This gathering of my family in a time of loss felt very wrong.

Yes, we were able to be together but I was not satisfied, nor did I feel at peace. This was not the send-off my brother would have wanted.

So we decided to plan another celebration of Charles’s life. This time, we met at a chapel just outside of Tannersville, N.Y.

Our parents had a summer home there. We spent many wonderful fun-filled summers in this community. Every Sunday, we sang in the choir alongside our peers.

It was a perfectly beautiful summer day.

We, and some of the friends we knew (and who knew our brother), gathered at this lovely little chapel nestled in the Catskill mountains.

We stood around the headstone placed next to that of our father and remembered Charles.

The pastor had been in touch with my other brother, Chris, and put together a meaningful tribute. Chris also shared some of his thoughts. Charles's son also shared a few heartfelt words.

Following this service, we met at the clubhouse (a few of the cousins remarked that it looked like the dining room from Dirty Dancing) for lunch.

I had to chuckle at that comment because there's a small theatre where the community puts on a show every summer and there's even a lake!

This gathering closed the loop for me and the rest of the family.