“La tristesse durera toujours”—Sadness will last forever.

Those were Vincent’s last words. Passed down by his brother Theo, who was there—as always.

I stand in front of this self-portrait at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, and my thoughts aren’t just on Vincent. I’m thinking of Theo.

Vincent van Gogh was born in 1853 into an affluent Dutch middle-class family. He drew even as a child: serious, quiet, pensive. As a young man, he worked as an art dealer, traveled throughout Europe, and wrote hundreds of letters. After being transferred to London, he fell into depression. What followed were decades marked by swings between creative frenzy and mental breakdowns. Poverty. Crises. Hospital stays. And always: Theo.

Theo van Gogh was four years younger. He worked as an art dealer in Paris and sent Vincent money every month—often his own. He replied to every letter. He believed in the paintings when no buyer wanted them. He endured what hardly anyone can endure: constant closeness to a person who lived between genius and the abyss.

Vincent died on July 29, 1890, in Auvers-sur-Oise. He was 37 years old. Two days earlier, he had shot himself. Theo was at his deathbed.

What happened to Theo afterward is rarely told.

On October 9, 1890—ten weeks after Vincent’s death—Theo broke down. On October 12, he was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. The admission form states in the “Cause of Illness” column:

“Chronic illness. Overwork and grief. He has led a life full of emotional strain.”

That sentence is over 130 years old. It could have been written today.

Theo died on January 25, 1891. He was 33 years old. Half a year after Vincent. Today, their graves lie side by side in the cemetery at Auvers-sur-Oise.

—

Many family members know what happened to Theo. Even without the 19th century, even without syphilis. The burden that remains after being there for someone for years. The trauma that eats away at the body when that person is suddenly gone. The exhaustion that no one sees, because everyone was focused on the other person.

Family members carry a burden that rarely gets a name. No medical record for them. No diagnosis. Just: carry on.

Life is a roller coaster for Theo, too.

For everyone who isn’t the center of attention—and yet gives it their all.

The ride continues.