The fentanyl crisis has created a growing group no one wants to be part of—bereaved siblings. Often overlooked as parents struggle to cope with their own loss, siblings carry their own burden of grief, guilt, and healing.
Ben and Jake Zurkow know this pain firsthand. Their younger brother, Henry, died from fentanyl poisoning at just 23 years old.
“He was absolutely fearless,” Ben said, while looking at pictures of his brother Henry.
“Henry and I really did everything together as kids,” Jake said. “We were 16 months apart, and as a result, our lives were very much shaped by each other.”
That bond was shattered when Henry unknowingly took a pain pill laced with fentanyl.
“I think if you had said to me, ‘Do you know what fentanyl is?’ I probably would have said yes,” Ben said. “If you had said to me, ‘Do you know that a tiny, tiny amount can kill a full-grown human being?’ I would have had no idea.”
Henry excelled in pretty much every sport..
“Henry was injured for most of his high school career,” Jake recalled. “He had significant injuries… I remember one football game when I was a senior, and he would have been a sophomore, where in order to deal with the pain, he was taking so much Advil that it actually affected his esophagus and his stomach lining.”
“He just pushed so hard and so fast to get to get healthy. That’s such a high pain tolerance and in general that he was really able to, at that age, keep going, keep pushing,” said Ben.
He was prescribed medication and struggled through pain and eventually addiction. Ben and Jake saw changes in Henry but didn’t equate it with drug use.
“There were mood swings, rage,” Ben said. “I had no idea that it was drugs. I had no idea that that was the cause.”
“It was hard for me to determine that it was a result of the medication rather than the other way around,” Jake added. “And I think that has to do with me not knowing much about addiction.”
Henry went to rehab and eventually reconnected with his family.
“I know I had a really strained relationship with him,” Ben said. “And after a couple rounds of going to rehab, he was able to come back to the family, and we were really able to rebuild not just a friendship but a brothership.”
But Henry continued to grapple with his old sports injuries. In July 2022, he bought what he thought was a legitimate pain pill. But is was laced with a deadly dose of fentanyl.
“Getting that call when he passed was the worst moment of my life, without a doubt,” Jake said.
“I was completely in shock, grief, tears,” Ben added. “I think we were all on the phone together, just dry heaving because all our tears had run out.”
For surviving siblings, grief is twofold—mourning a brother or sister while also witnessing their parents cope with overwhelming loss.
“I think my parents spent a lot of time dealing with Henry’s addiction before he passed away and dealing with his death in their own way as well,” Ben said. “There was feelings of guilt. And I was his big brother by five and a half years. I still hold on to feelings of guilt from many years ago.”
“My life was turned upside down,” Jake said. “In the immediate aftermath of Henry, I had a very hard time just living. Not in a ‘I don’t want to be around anymore,’ kind of way, but it the way it was very hard for me to find motivation or inspiration to do anything.”
“There are random mornings where I wake up and I call him and I say, ‘I hate that Henry’s dead.’ And he goes, ‘Yeah, me too,'” Ben said.
“We sort of have an unwritten rule,” Jake said. “If you’re ever feeling down, thinking about Henry, call at anytime. Just say it. It’s better to let it out than to be feeling that alone.”
With the help of therapy, they have found ways to process their grief.
“It’s about not just recognition of my past with Henry and coming to terms with his death, but finding my pathway forward,” Ben said.
“I tend to think about the good times that we shared,” Jake added. “And I also don’t want Henry’s life to be a hindrance to mine because I know that he wouldn’t have wanted that.”
With support, both brothers found strength in the brokenness to move forward through their pain each day.
“There are a lot of rabbit holes to go down that are bad,” Ben said. “Especially in the wake of Henry’s death, trying to live healthy makes a big difference.”
“I love my brother. I love my brothers. That will never change,” Jake said. “A fear that I had when Henry first passed was that his memory would slip away. And the truth is, it can never. There is a piece of my heart that is gone forever. I am forever different. But we can take our experiences going forward, and we can do something with them.”
