Troy Spencer, brother to Charleen Earley, retired from BART on Oct. 23, 2023, working over 30 years as a mechanic. His unexpected death on Dec. 20, 2023 at age 58, has been difficult to understand and process.
My younger brother passed away on Dec. 20, 2023. He was only 58 and none of his family and friends saw it coming. I’m the one who found him. The coroner ruled it hypertension.
Our last communication was four days prior.
I’ve been devastated ever since, even though it’s now been over five months.
I understand that processing grief does not have a timestamp, but for various reasons (many of which I’m still processing) the grief I’m feeling is like none other than I’ve ever felt in my 60 years.
My mom passed away in 2007 of Alzheimer’s at the young age of 63. From diagnosis to heaven, it was a year and a half, and while she was too young, and that year and a half felt like a few months, I had time to process.
I had time to tell her how much I loved her and how much I would miss her. Before her decline, we talked on the phone almost every day – from Oakley to Alameda.
That grief felt normal, although it wasn’t easy. I spoke of her daily to those around me – just like I talk about my brother today.
But the grief with my brother is exceedingly different and feels a thousand times more painful and deep. It’s affected my health – both mental and physical. Five months later, the cries come from my core, deep within – sometimes controllable, sometimes not.
My layman thoughts reason, maybe it’s because he was younger than I and the death order should dictate that I leave earth first. Or maybe it’s because I couldn’t save him. Just days prior to his death I texted – urging him to go to the doctor and offering to take him. He said he’d be fine. From that point on, my calls and texts went unanswered.
Maybe it’s because I didn’t have a chance to say, “Goodbye, but see you soon, when it’s my turn.” Or could my pain be because I felt his full life was cheated by time? He retired on his birthday last year on Oct. 23. He was a mechanic for BART for over 30 years. His life should have just begun, and he should have been happily enjoying the fruits of his labor.
Before working at BART, he served as a Marine for four years. I still have all the letters he wrote me, and now I have all the ones I wrote him. He saved them all.
We said “I love you” often, in person, via text or phone.
Most of us like to stay in control of things, so when a loved one passes unexpectedly, control is out the door. Maybe that also explains my pain.
I reached out to a friend who lost her oldest brother this year. He was 84 years old, a healthy, active walker, golfer and farmer. Three weeks after his diagnosis, he passed.
She told me she’s had many losses in her life – her mother, father, her two other brothers (youngest and middle) and her best friend – and each loss was different.
“As different as my relationship with each person, and at that time in my life (experiences, maturity, knowledge),” she said. “All with an element of shock at the realization this person was gone from my physical life forever. All signs of grief eventually lessened, then ended, all at different durations.”
This is how she’s coping with her most recent loss.
“[Spending] unstructured time with family, seeing and feeling the depth of everyone’s grieving is equal to the depth of love they have for him,” she said. “I have a different belief about death now – no fear of regrets, getting back to routine, staying in touch with loved ones, allowing myself to cry, or be sad or even to be happy and laugh.”
I also connected with Dr. Jackie Buettner, who recently, suddenly, lost her older sister, age 76, on March 20.
“It was after having dinner with her daughter and two grandkids,” said Jackie. “Her grandson did CPR until the paramedics arrived, but they were unable to revive her.”
She said her sister had sent her a text the day before, saying she was having trouble with her blood pressure and asked if Jackie could tell her what she could do to get it lowered.
“The doctor had recently changed her blood pressure meds and yes, her passing was unexpected,” said Jackie. “I have felt so sad since my sister died. Different feelings than when my mom passed at age 93. I think I was more prepared for mom’s death, as her health had been declining over a few years.”
Jackie told me a dear friend of hers shared a book, “It’s OK That You’re NOT OK: Meeting Grief and Loss in a Culture that Doesn’t Understand,” by Megan Devine.
“I know my sadness is the body’s way of coping or perhaps even God’s way of letting me know that I should slow down and reflect,” said Jackie. “Reading this and reflecting – time cocooned up at home has helped. Also spending time outside in my garden, digging in the earth, even pulling weeds, reconnects me with nature and helps me cope.”
Her friend also shared a quote with Jackie, stating, “God gave us memories that we may have roses in December.”
I bought that book, along with a couple of other recommendations and I’m meeting with my doctor regularly. I even made an appointment for counseling too.
I know the roses will bloom come December. I just wish my brother Troy Spencer could be there to share their beauty and fragrance with me.
