In June 2024, our nephew Archie Oliver passed away from SIDS at just 3 months old. He was the son of Alexander’s younger brother George and his wife Emily.
In the very first days, the priority was being physically present to support George & Emily. Not much time was spent processing personal grief as it wasn’t a priority. Hannah was at home with our 9-month-old son while I drove several times in that first week to be with George and the family. It was perhaps only when I returned home and was back with our own child that there was space to begin processing the grief, and to imagine the devastating heartbreak George and Emily were going through. When with them, the focus was on what could be done to help, as the time always felt so brief.
At the beginning, when we received the awful phone call, there was disbelief — not quite believing we had heard the news correctly - followed by shock as reality set in. These sorts of things shouldn’t happen to anyone, especially not someone in your own family. It was absolutely heartbreaking, and it still is.
It has been incredibly painful to watch one of the people you love most have their world devastated and to feel helpless to fix it. So often, words felt insignificant and pointless to say, and many went unsaid. Help was offered as best as possible, but there was always the feeling that more should have been done.
We regularly checked in with George to let him know he was being thought of when it wasn’t possible to be physically present. In those early days there were a few walks together, and later the pub and some golf. At the very beginning, I rang all of George and Emily’s friends to let them know the horrendous news and tried to act as a gatekeeper - asking everyone to respect their grief, give them time, and direct any questions to him instead.
Helplessness was a constant feeling. There was often the sense that more should be said or done, but not wanting to say the wrong thing frequently meant saying nothing at all.
It didn’t feel like there was a conscious decision to prioritise their grief - it just naturally happened that way. Their grief was so much bigger, and trying to help in any way felt like doing something useful. It’s hard to know how anyone is truly feeling, even now, and difficult to compare grief within a family. Although not the most vocal, there was devastation at the loss of Archie and for his parents.
Time has helped an awful lot. Perhaps in a typical way, there wasn’t much seeking of support outwardly. Hannah spoke to her family and friends to process her grief. She also looked after our baby so Alexander could be with George and the family, and was the support at home when I returned. Support ripples outwards - in trying to be strong and supportive for George, support was quietly given in return at home.
We remember Archie by talking about him and how he would have been a great cousin and friend to our son, Ludo. One day we will tell Ludo about him too.
George & I were close before and remain close now. The relationship hasn’t changed, but there is an understanding that this loss has changed him.
Having a baby close in age to Archie made the heartbreak for George and Emily even sharper. There is an overwhelming sadness for their tragic loss and only an imagining of the pain they went through and will live with. It has also changed perspective - there are no photos of Archie with us or with Ludo. The few times we met him, there was so much going on and we assumed there would be many more opportunities. Now we realise that being able to look back at memories is life’s treasure.
One of the biggest regrets is not asking more - not asking if they wanted to talk, if they needed help, what more could be done. If you’re thinking of someone, let them know. Don’t stay silent out of fear of saying the wrong thing.
When you are a sibling in this kind of loss, people ask how the parents are doing, and inside you can feel like a fraud because you’re not quite sure how to answer.
The best support from friends, extended family and community is simple - be available to talk, run errands, offer to look after children if you live nearby. Help keep the wheels of life moving while theirs has completely stopped.