To My Big Big Brother, Christopher
From Your Little Sister, Sitting at Your Graveside Today
Hey big brother,
I’m here again,
at the place they say holds what’s left of you—
but you’re not here.
Not really.
The grass is growing.
The wind is soft.
But my heart?
It aches like the day they took you from me.
Like the moment I heard you were gone.
I brought music with me today.
Some of our kind.
American rock.
It doesn’t scream “U.S.A.!” like the flag waves…
but somehow,
it feels like home.
It feels like us.
Loud.
True.
Real.
Like when we were just kids,
and you were always the brave one—
and I was the little sister
just trying to keep up.
I miss you, Chris.
So much, it hurts through my bones.
You were a good big brother,
and I’m so sorry—
I couldn’t protect you.
I tried.
God knows, I tried.
They admitted it—
those responsible for your pain,
for your death.
But justice feels so hollow
when your laugh is gone.
You should still be here.
Laughing.
Fixing things.
Loving your family.
Watching your kids grow.
And maybe…
listening to classic rock with me
on a porch somewhere.
Instead, I sit on the ground and talk to the sky.
And cry into the wind.
And wonder if you hear me.
I hope you do.
Because I still need my big brother.
Chris, there’s more I wish I’d told you—
things I knew before you passed.
I kept them inside,
thinking I was protecting you.
But maybe I should have said it all.
And I need you to know something else—
they did it to me too.
Since 2010,
after I sued Homeland Security
and stood tall as a federal whistleblower—
as a former law enforcement officer
who refused to be silent—
they made me pay for telling the truth.
And not just with threats.
Not just with isolation.
They’ve come for my body, Chris.
Just like they did to you.
On purpose.
Calculated.
Cruel.
I have lived through hit after hit attempt on my life here.
Blatant.
Organized.
Buried in silence.
And each time,
I survived.
But survival isn’t the same as living.
They’ve made me re-heal
again and again and again—
and I am exhausted.
But I am not done.
This time, I’m fighting differently.
This time, I’m writing my own laws.
Laws that protect my breath,
my bones,
my birthright.
I am reclaiming my body
as sacred territory.
Not theirs to target.
Not anymore.
I miss you more than words will ever say.
And I’m so, so sorry—
I couldn’t protect you.
But I carry you in everything I do.
And I promise you this—
when I finally get my leave,
I will take what’s left of you with me.
I will bring you home.
You will rest where you’re safe—
with me.
You are not forgotten.
And neither am I.
Love forever,
Your little sister,
Samantha Syrnich TLC
🟥⭐🛡️🧡
💔🕊️🎸
🇺🇸 Top 50 American Rock Songs 🇺🇸
ultimateclassicrock.com/top-american-rock-songs
♥️🕊️🎶
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