The next two sessions I will be sharing over this month, are both people who recently lost their brothers. I knew going into them it would be a tender day for me, and in the past I would have avoided scheduling two stories back to back that were so similar to mine, but quite honestly I enjoy the deep dive into feelings that can happen when two people have similar intersections in their grief timelines. While the idea of that kind of conversation can make so many people feel anxious and worried about the pain we could feel – it can also feel so validating, expansive and helpful. I find the process that people move through as they navigate their grief, fascinating. If we can be curious about the hard stuff, it’s incredible what we can uncover.

I first met M at a poetry/author event over at Charlie’s Queer Books called Transplants. M shared some of her writings and afterward we connected, only for me to learn we had the same name, and the same loss – M had also lost her brother to suicide. I’ve spoken about this immediate connection with people often in this work – when you connect on a similar pain point with someone – something in your body shifts in how you empathize and relate to them. This is how I felt toward M.

When we met initially and she applied for the project – it had only been 2 months since her brother had taken his life. My rule is 6 months post event and having a secure mental health plan in place before I will approve the session; a boundary for my own mental health. M and I continued to communicate, and I knew over the fall and winter I would be slowing down – so we agreed to meet as the light returned in 2026.

Coming up now on the one year anniversary of her brothers death as well as birthday – it feels like timing was meant to be this way. It was lovely watching the way M has navigated her own grief, while also surfing the waves of feelings coming up within other layers of her life. I found myself so impressed as her tears came and went without apology and just as fact. The ability to stay and talk through things rather than leaving herself. Watching her do that, knowing how many additional years it took me to get to that place, was pretty special.

The following are M’s quotes that were collected during her session, along with my favorites of her final images. Then below in conclusion, I’ve included a few Photographer’s Notes.

M Bredl

Funeral Director Intern at Return Home (A Terramation Funeral Home)
Mother, Daughter, Sister, Aunt, Caretaker, Lover, Fighter, Resilient Woman of Faith

Brennan died on his 34th birthday. He was in the Army ROTC in college and a Polysci major. He was always kind of obsessed with wars and soldiers. He went into the National Guard and ended up working for Park Services. He was deployed to Djibouti and injured while on active duty. 

He loved people. Wherever he went he would start conversations with them. He really saw all people as worth talking to. 

“I looked up to him in so many ways. On the outside he was tough but underneath he was really  a cuddly teddy bear. I was confused about myself growing up and as a result wanted to copy everything he did.”

Brennan had always been pessimistic in a way. The week before his death I had more communication with him than usual. I talked to him a few hours before his death. I sent him a gospel song by Tramaine Hawkins called Holy One. I went skating and was listening to that song on repeat when I suddenly felt a huge gust of wind. Looking back I feel like that gust of wind was him.  

He had been struggling in his personal life and with substances. It was something that wasn’t on my radar. After his death, addiction was clear. I’ve struggled with it too. I’ve struggled with addiction since I was 14. Recovery changed my life, focus and faith in something greater than myself in this world saved me. 

“When I had a child,  I could see how my behaviors affected them. I started to make a conscious effort to change, to be my most honest and authentic self.  I want to do
my best for her.”

I admitted myself to a mental health facility for my addiction, and after facing the reality of my addiction I had to face the reality that I am transgender. My mind was torn between trying to be the person that I thought the world wanted me to be and accepting who I really have been all along. I have been clean and sober of all substances for a year and a half now.

June 3rd, Brennan’s birthday. I was at work and my dad called me. He sounded calm but there was dissonance in his voice. He told me that Brennan had killed himself. I cried “I can’t deal with this right now”. I had so much going on in my life already. I fell to my knees and sobbed on the floor.

At this point I was actively in addiction recovery, going through a divorce and advancing in my journey through gender transition. All while trying to be a mother. It felt like I had finally gotten to a point in my life where I was getting a grasp on my reality, and then I got smacked by this. 

I spoke with Brennan’s wife about a week later and she told me exactly what had happened. He had been drinking that night and I don’t think my brother would have killed himself if he hadn’t been drinking. He was in such a bad head space. He had been struggling in his life, struggling to be a good parent, with his health and recovering from being injured during his deployment. 

There were two services for Brennan since he lived on the East coast. I wrote a zine to help myself process his death  and read it at his service here. His funeral was the day after my birthday. In the zine I share a lot about him and our time growing up. But also about mental health, as a message of hope for people who feel alone. He was a good, strong, kind and gentle person. He made a split second choice in an emotional state that ended his life. 

“It feels like my life has not stopped since then. I can feel things so much deeper in recovery than I could before, both the good and the bad. There will always be hard things in life, but there is so much in this world worth experiencing.”

That is one of the reasons why I love what I do, I get to be with people during their hardest times. I’m working towards being a licensed funeral director. I’m close!

Return Home converts human remains into soil. From earth to earth. I work directly with the families. I get to connect to people when they are experiencing grief of the loss or expected loss of a loved one.

One service that Return Home offers that I love is free of charge deposition to anyone under 18 years old. The loss of any loved one is so hard and the loss of a child can be devastating. We do the best we can to ease that loss.

“I hope to give people in grief the best experience they can have, in the most positive way possible during times of such hardship. Return Home prides itself on giving people the most hands-on experience to help them through the grieving process.” 

I’ve been involved with such intimate moments with families. I get to hear stories about these amazing people that I would have never known otherwise. I enjoy curating an ideal space for people to go through that process. We all deserve to live and we all die, it is an inevitable reality.

To those experiencing loss: Grief isn’t linear. We experience it at all different points of our lives. The pain really doesn’t go away, but we learn how to live with it. I want people to know they’re not alone. There are so many people struggling that truly understand. There’s a place for you here. Please reach out, there are so many people that can help.

Photographers Notes

M emailed me the week of their session asking if she could wear a hat. I said of course, whatever she was comfortable in. Truth is, I love an accessory. They are the extensions of our expression! Noticing the little ways people adorn themselves helps you get to know them, and reminds you how unique we all are. Whether its tattoos, rings, glasses, earrings, necklaces, their hair on their heads and faces. People express themselves so uniquely and beautifully if you take the time to notice.

Lighting around hats can be interesting – mainly working with the shadows they can cast. Also we are born with accessories – grief affects our movements, how we move it out of our bodies. It can feel uncomfortable! How does it manifest and move through you, have you ever noticed? I’ve learned thru this work, the value of noticing people’s emotional tells and comfort stims – as places for pause, tenderness and connection. Those are the vulnerable accessories we share when we feel safe to. THOSE are powerful moments that require so much strength, I can literally see and feel people working thru hard feelings in front of my camera. Some will play with jewelry, their hair, or want to hold a crystal or token of a loved one, or sometimes a warm or cold beverage to help ground them. Sometimes it’s a deep breathe and closing their eyes for a moment. I love to capture those small details, as it humanizes us to each other in moments that can feel scary to so many people.

Every movement we make, is informed through our wounds and heart space. We are quite literally magic souls, in human meat-suits – that get wounded over time, so as we move through the human experience, we carry those things with us in every part of our being. Our bodies are our bloom prints. My hope is that this project can be a mirror for people to see what that kind of raw power and courage can look like as we move through life together – collectively wounded.

Thank you M for your story, for sharing the story of your brother and his life – and most importantly thank you for the trust. You can find two more of M’s Zine’s below.

Brennan Bredl