A mother's grief - without time limits - The Boston Globe

A mother's grief - without time limits - The Boston Globe

A good article by Marianne Leone

Can I borrow your mask?

I was reminded today of how important it is to listen, to truly listen.  We meet so many people each day, some we know and some are just strangers who we happened to be standing behind in line.  There are so many faces, so many personalities, so many facets that cannot be fathomed. 

Every person has a story, every person is dealing with issues, whether is it big or small it doesn't really matter.  What matters is there is so much hidden behind a tentative smile, a quick nod, or maybe even no reaction at all.  

I was once told I had no clue what life was about, how could I, I always have a smile on my face.  I was truly blessed to have a good life, unlike themselves, I didn't know pain, or suffering.  Yes, this was said to me after I had lost my daughter, this person had just recently met me and had no clue what I had gone through.  But it serves as a reminder of how so many of us are.  We go through life, we survive, we smile, we put up a front.  A good percentage of most of the people we encounter have no clue that we have ever had anything happen in our lives.  It reminds me of a duck on a pond, they look totally calm and collected on the surface, yet they are paddling like hell underneath.  

So many people are dealing with so much, you and I may be trying to cope with the death of a loved one, someone else may have just been told that their life will be cut short due to illness, another may be dealing with a terminal illness of someone dear.  There are still others who are watching family members destroy their own lives through addiction and do not even know where to begin, let alone help this person.  Some of you may have strained relationships with your parents, a brother or sister, or any number of people in your lives.  

We work with these people, we meet them at the check out line, they attend church services with us, their children are in the same school as yours, they are members of our own families, they are anyone we meet at any given time.  Yet to the naked eye they look perfectly happy, unscathed by life's tragedies, they would never understand what I am going through. 

As I listened to my friend's pain today, I realized that so many of us 'suffer in silence' and go about our daily routines as if nothing is wrong.  We smile, we laugh, we look like the average happy person, without a care in the world.  But it is what they said that made me realize that so much happens beneath the surface, when they began to share their story, they realized how many people had traveled the very road they were on.  They we amazed to find out how many people they had known for a long time, who had already been in their shoes.  Had struggled with what to do, how to cope, what to do next, etc.  

In an earlier posting, I shared the importance of finding someone who will just listen, who will let you tell your story.  I was reminded today, how important it is too also open ourselves to others, to share our story, talk about our pain, and to really allow ourselves to be vulnerable.  When I began to tell people that my daughter had died, I was amazed at the number of people I encountered that had been in my shoes.  In some instances I had know these people, I had been with them at events, and watching them, I would never had guessed that they had been down the road I was now on.  When I began to talk about the death of my daughter, I allowed others to share their stories with me.  I learned so much from these people, they shared the ups and downs of their grief, and how with time they learned to accept, but never forget their child.  

 

I was also reminded that grief is not only caused by the death of someone we love, but also because of illness, addiction, divorce, or any circumstance in our life that takes us out of what is normal and routine.  We begin to lose what we know as normal, we begin to lose control of our lives, we are set adrift in a sea of confusion, trying to find a safe place, out of the storms, away from all the uncertainty and pain.  

When we share, we find out that so many have traveled this road before us, they can guide us, let us know what to expect behind the bend in the road, give us the tools to prepare us for that sudden drop, and give us the strength and energy to keep going when the road gets steep.  

It doesn't mean you talk to every person you know, or every stranger you meet, what I am trying to say, is to allow yourself to be open, and you will know when it is the right time to talk.  You will know when it is okay to share your story.  It doesn't mean that everyone will listen to you, you will still encounter people who will react in ways that are least expected.  It simply means you must let yourself trust others enough to share, and be willing to let them share their experiences with you.  

So listen, listen with your heart, and you will hear and see what your ears and eyes can not ever comprehend.  You will begin to see with a heart of love, and understand that we have all been reluctant travelers of many of life's roads.  In the sharing, we allow ourselves to find companions who not only walk with us, but offer to bear some of our load.  

Blessings! and until we meet again. 

'Look at this Photograph'

Family, fun and photographs!  Another holiday weekend comes to an end, and tomorrow it is back to reality.  For some of us it is back to work, for others it will be getting your children onto the school bus or driving them to school.  A true indicator that summer is coming to an end and fall is knocking on it's door.  

We begin to notice that the days are getting shorter, nights are cooler, and you need to keep a sweater or jacket handy when you go out.  It is a time when the leaves start changing colors and eventually begin to fall off the trees and we begin to prepare for the winter months.

Today I began to upload my pictures and put them into the appropriate folders on my computer.  This birthday party, that family gathering, a road trip here and special event there; storing them according to dates and events, keeping all the memories neat and tidy.  It is always amazing to look at your year in review; the photos acting as a chronological diary of everything that was important and worth documenting. 

There is so much truth in the old adage: 'a picture is worth a thousand words.'  When we look at our photographs, we remember the event, the conversations, who was present, why it was important to have been a part of it, and how glad we are that we hadn't missed it. 

As we look through our photos, we may come across those of our deceased loved ones and we may find ourselves reminiscing, longing for those days again, wishing they were here with us just one more time.  As I filed my photos away, I came across my 2006 folders and I began to go through them.  I looked at each photo of my daughter, feeling an emptiness and aching just to hug her one more time.  A couple of years ago I would have needed a whole box of tissues, just to get through a handful of them; now I look at them and remember.  I look at her smile and how her eyes would twinkle when she was having a great time, and recall how much see truly enjoyed life.  

I thank God that I have these memories, and I am reminded of how precious life truly is.  How we often take so much for granted and do not recognize the gifts we have been given.  Life is a collection of memories, good, bad and indifferent, but a collection all the same.  

So collect your memories, remember all those times you shared with your loved ones, and how your life has been enriched because of them.  It may be painful at first to just look at reminders of better times, but eventually they will bring a smile to your face.  When my daughter first passed away, someone suggested I put all her pictures away.  Their argument was that it would be to painful for us to have any photos of Rachel around  the house.  I kept them out and added a few more to my framed pictures, they were welcomed and comforting.  

For some of you that may not be the case, it may be to difficult to have their pictures displayed in your home.  Around the same time my daughter died, another family also lost their daughter and I was told they put all her pictures away, they couldn't bear to look at them, it caused too much pain.   They have since taken out photos of their daughter, but it took a while.  I have said it before and I'll say it again, we all respond differently to our grief, and we all handle it and cope with it in very distinct ways.  What may work for one person, is of little help to another.  We all need to allow ourselves time to accept what has happened and find our way through the maze of emotions, slowly finding what is best for us.  

If only life could be as neat and tidy as our photo albums, with each memory properly filed away.  Keeping everything as it is, but life is not a still photo and even though we capture it's events in pictures, we cannot freeze time.  Life continues to march onward, taking the roads it chooses and leading us to our new destinations.  We can only hope that the memories will provide us with the strength to continue going long after our loved ones have gone.  

So take out your cameras, get those snapshots of life, live it and record it, but most importantly, cherish the moments in your life.  Make those memories and take nothing in life for granted.   

Blessings! and until we meet again.

Title is a line from Nickleback's  'Photograph.'

Love Never Fails.

Labor Day Weekend, summer's last hurrah.  This is a time of backyard barbeque's, one more dip in the pool, or any number of celebrations and get togethers.  A time when you just enjoy being with family or friends or maybe even both.  

Yesterday, we celebrated the beginning of a new life for my niece and her husband.  We watched them profess their love in a beautiful church ceremony, and looked on wistfully as they stepped onto the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife.   We celebrated one of the many joys in life, especially for the parents, as they watch the children they gave life to, now begin a life of their own. Emotions range from happiness, to sadness and everywhere in between. 

I enjoy these celebrations of happiness: weddings, baptisms, first birthdays, and anniversaries, etc., all representing milestones in someones life.  With these wonderful occasions, comes a feeling that is bittersweet.  For so many of us who have lost a loved one, these occasions represent dreams unfulfilled.  We feel cheated out of some important part of our lives, as though the hand of fate has dealt us a raw deal.  We may feel anger, resentment, or resignation, we may have learned to hide our emotions or find ourselves unable to control them.  

I have learned to keep my emotions somewhat in check, I don't always succeed, but have come to know what triggers a response.  For me, watching the father-daughter dance is one of the more difficult moments, I make a hasty retreat to where I can be alone.  I take some deep breathes and try not to think of what is happening in the reception hall.  I have become somewhat successful at stepping out without the notice of others present. 

For some of you, it may be that one of your parents has died, others a brother or sister, some a beloved grandparent, aunt or uncle, and still others a child.  All these individuals have left a void in your life, and special celebrations can leave you longing for their presence.  Especially when they would have had a significant role in the celebration.  

Recently a friend shared with me that she did not realize she was actually grieving.  She married a few months ago and walked herself down the aisle.  Her father is still alive, but suffers from Alzheimer's and was unable to walk his daughter down the aisle.  At first she considered herself an independent person, and the act of walking herself down the aisle just reinforced this fact.  But in retrospect, it was a self-defense mechanism, allowing her to forestall her grief.  Even though her father is still very much alive, she has had to say good-bye to her dad.  

Shortly after my father's death, hearing the song by Bob Carlisle, 'Butterfly Kisses' was a killer, and of course it was a very popular song at weddings a few years ago, and if Luther Vandross' 'Dance with My Father' came on radio, I would be reduced to tears.  We all have different events, songs, places and mementos that remind us of our loved ones, that trigger a response from us.  If you had a strained relationship with the person that died, it can also cause guilt to bubble up.  

As the years go by we learn to accept that our loved one will not be present, that life can and does go on, and that we will and do survive.  We remember them, we think of them often and sometimes, depending on their relationship with the person celebrating, they are also remembered in a special way.  A few years ago at one of my niece's weddings, she made a point of having pictures of all her deceased relatives incorporated into a slide show of her and her husband's lives.  My daughter's photo was among them and it let me know she meant something to not only my husband and I, but to my niece and her family.  It was a beautiful tribute to all those special people in her life that could no longer be present.  

Take heart, that the pain you now feel will begin to ebb, you will be able to enjoy life's celebrations.  You will remember fondly all those members of your family that have died and you will find ways of thinking of them during these times.  Yes they are missed, they are remembered and their life is cherished and celebrated.  They are present in the faces around you, in the laughter and in the tears, the scents and the music, their every essence is a part of who you are.  They are always with us, always in our hearts, they are always a heart beat away.  

One of my favorite bible readings, one that was read at our wedding and yesterday at my niece's, is from 1 Corinthians 13:4-8*.  It is also a very popular sentiment on many wedding cards and used quite often in home decor in the form of framed artwork or blankets and throws. I am sure you will recognize these words, and may have heard them several times.  

Love is patient, love is kind;

love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude,

it does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; 

it does not rejoice in wrong-doing, but rejoices in the truth,

it bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  

Love never ends.

Blessings! and until we meet again.

*The passage was taken from 

The Catholic Faith & Family Bible, NRSV, 

Harper Catholic Bibles, Copyright 1989, 1993.

Please, tell me you didn't do that again!

Why do we do what we do?  Why do we often repeat the things we know didn't go right the first time we tried it?  Why are we such creatures of habit?  To quote a line from one of my favorite movies, 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding,' 'I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.'  

It has been an interesting day, running around trying to get some last minute items for a family wedding, while avoiding torrential downpours, made for some fun dodging.   I did get it all accomplished to my surprise, especially knowing I left to much to do at the last minute.  You would think by now I would have learned not to do that, it often leads to making hasty purchases that leave you wondering, why!  

Even when we know better, all too often we fall into our old routines.  If you are generally a caretaker by nature, that's exactly what you do.  You make sure everyone around you is okay, you are the last person you worry about.  If you are a take charge type, you step in and take the lead, making arrangements, keeping Uncle Jack happy, making sure Aunt Sue is in the right place, and so on.  If you are typically laid back, you just step out of the way and let the others take the reigns.  Then of course there are the doers, who wait for the marching orders and then get right to the task.  I could go on with more personality types, but I think you get the picture.  

When we are hit with a tragedy, we immediately do what we do best, we do what we have always done.  It's what is expected of us, after all, everyone knows that just how I am.  Its funny at how often we do not even realize we are doing it.  We are so wired to be who we are, that even in the midst of something bad happening to us, we just do it.  

I have always been the responsible one, even as a child, I would often say no when my parents would ask me to do something. They seldom got upset with me, because within minutes, I would feel guilty and do it any way.  As I grew older, and maybe wiser, I was  the one that everyone could count on.  Just ask Rose Mary, she'll get it done, she'll take care of that.  There were so many times I  wished I could just stop being responsible.

When we got the call letting us know my daughter had been in an accident, responsibility kicked right in.  I was the one giving the medical updates to the rest of the family and to her friends.  When the time came, I made sure all the arrangements were taken care of, who had what role, and so on.  Even as far as getting up at the funeral Mass and sharing words of remembrance on behalf of my daughter.  I so performed as expected, and didn't let anyone down, I proved once again that they could count on me. 

When that initial shock wore off, wow that creature of habit took a sabbatical and I got my wish, responsibility went out the window.  I didn't even recognize myself, I worried about nothing, didn't care what was happening around me, even when things seemed to be crumbling, I just coasted along. Fortunately for me, my family stepped into action, and made sure things were taken care of.  That individual that everyone could depend on, now depended on everyone else.  It was very humbling, especially when I realized that I really could not handle the grief alone, knowing there was no way I could take this ride without someone else taking the drivers seat.  

I recently attended a funeral and realized that even when we are in shock, we are all so different.  I witnessed as the immediate family seemed lost, unsure of what to do next, being guided by the funeral home staff.  It was like watching a boat that has slipped it's anchor and is drifting away.  I have even attended funerals were the family member had to be literally carried in order to participate in any of the services.  We have all experienced the different reactions to the death of someone.  We have all seen widows who scream, while other widows just sit there quietly.  We've seen the distraught family and the family who stand there as if this were just another day.  We have more than likely witnessed the full spectrum of responses to the death of a loved one.  We have probably been some where on this spectrum ourselves.

More than likely we were amazed at our own reactions, are self control or lack there of.  This is who we are, this is how we survive, how we cope and how we go on.  So being a creature of habit isn't such a bad thing, it can help you climb that mountain.  And just when you don't think you can go any further, you get a boost of energy, and we make it to the top, were the view is clear and we can finally see what lies ahead. 

Do not be ashamed of your reactions, of your response to what has happened.  Do not allow anyone to make you feel as if you have failed.  I didn't wear black which was a big no no for a person of Portuguese decent.  I actually had someone tell me how dare I not honor my daughter, how disrespectful of me.  Imagine that, I wasn't in black.  I did wear it for the funeral, but changed into what my daughter expected me to be in not what everyone else did.  Besides black is just a color in my book, what I chose to wear wouldn't bring my daughter back.  

Don't worry about what others will think, what others will say, trust me, even if you give them nothing to talk about they do anyway.  So live for you, live as your loved one would have wanted you to, do what your loved one expected you to do.  Rachel was fun loving, full of life, and so on the day of her funeral, our families and all her friends, went home, changed and all came back to our home.  They brought food and beverages and we spent the rest of the day together, celebrating her life.  It was a tribute to who she truly was, what she believed in, and the most appropriate of good byes.  

Be yourself, if you usually take care of others, let others take care of you.  Surrender yourself to your grief, allow yourself to cry, to laugh, to celebrate the life.  Do whatever it takes, even if it is totally out of character with who you are.  After all this is a whole new experience for you, take it one day at a time, take it slow.  

Blessings! and until we meet again.

'Signs, Signs, Everywhere a Sign'

I'm on the highway heading home after a terrific dinner with friends, and I notice all the traffic. Wow, it's late usually by now there is only a handful of cars out, especially on a Thursday evening.  Then I remember, we have a hurricane heading our way and people are evacuating or cutting short their vacations and heading home.  

All you heard today was about the chances of us getting a storm, people talked about it at work, they would continually update you on the radio.  The TV news channels made sure you got minute by minutes details of this storm and what the anticipated trajectory will be.  All these warning signs, on the local beaches, news flashes and marine warnings, all trying to tell us something.  As I continued to drive along I really began to notice how many signs there are out there.  This one tells you how fast you can travel, that one tells you to watch out for the bump, another warns you that there is road construction.

Wow, we are so dependent on signs to point us in the right directions, tells us where we are, how far before we get from here to there, and so on.  If these directional signs aren't enough, then there are all the billboards, telling you where to eat, get a cup of coffee, stay for the night and what medical facility is best for you and your medical needs.  I have never considered counting before and I am sure I would loose patients after about fifty signs.  But I had never really paid attention to all the signs on this 15 minute stretch of highway.  

I started wondering what life would be like if we had clear cut signs like those on the side of the road.  When you take your first baby step, expect to fall.  The first time you ride a bicycle you may not be able to stop.  If your friends do not want to talk to you take this turn up ahead.  Could you imagine if there was always an answer to all life's improbabilities.  If this happens, push this.  When that happens, move two steps.  Oh, when that takes place, take the nearest exit.  

It seems silly, but how often do we wish life came with a manual, with some signs giving us direction.  Telling us which path to choose, what career will really work for you, and what relationships you should foster for the minimal amount of hurt and pain. 

But, alas, this is life we are talking about, we don't get signs, there are no warning sirens, no news flashes, just day to day experience.  We may encounter someone who has been down a certain road in life, who may gives us some advice.  Another person may become our mentor, guiding us through our career choices and still another may know just what the right words to say when you are facing difficulties.  

But when any of us suffers a loss, whether it is due to death, divorce or other form of separation, we do not know where to begin, let alone try to figure out in which direction to go.  We seem to be on a long stretch of road without any signs and no apparent means of exiting.  We travel for mile after mile unsure of where we are, who we are and what is happening.  We look for signs telling us this is okay, you will survive, you are not alone, you are loved, anything to reassure us. 

When we grieve, we so want a sign that lets us know we are normal, it's okay to respond and act this way.  We try to measure our progress against what is written in a book, what the experts are saying on-line, what the expectations are for the grieving period, etc.  We try to conform to everyone elses expectations for us, we watch for cues and respond according to their reactions and needs.  

I was home for a year after my daughter died, I was useless, I couldn't focus and trivial things would set me off.  Issues seemed small and insignificant considering what I was going through.  As time went on I  looked for signs indicating that I was ready to go back to work, and I could deal with more than just getting up in the morning and surviving another day.  It took me a while even after going back to work to try to get into a routine, into a 'normal' life again.  

Even if we had warnings and signs, we would still have to travel the roads that are chosen for us.  Whether we are suffering the the loss of a loved one, a separation or divorce, or any other life altering experience that leaves us grieving, we would still react as we do, move ahead at our own speed and take whatever turns we need to.  We need to allow ourselves to fully grieve, to allow this loss to be comprehended, and to learn acceptance and to accept the graces that come our way.  

There are signs in life, they come in the form of family and friends, they are the rising and setting sun, they are rainbows and butterflies.  They are all around you, letting you know you are not alone and letting you know that even though life isn't fair, and it doesn't play by the rules, you will be okay.  So embrace the signs in your life, accept your own personal interpretation of these signs, and allow them to offer healing.  Life's signs will lead you on in the right direction, give you the push you need to keep on going, and the encouragement to know that you will be okay.  

There is a song by a band I enjoy listening to Train that I believe says it all.  

Here are the lyrics to 'Calling All Angels', from their album My Private Nation:

I need a sign to let me know you’re here
All of these lines are being crossed over the atmosphere
I need to know that things are gonna look up
Cause I feel us drowning in a sea spilled from a cup
When there is no place safe and no safe place to put my head
When you can feel the world shake from the words that I said

And I’m calling all angels
And I’m calling all you angels

And I won’t give up if you don’t give up
I won’t give up if you don’t give up
I won’t give up if you don’t give up
I won’t give up if you don’t give up 

I need a sign to let me know you’re here
Cause my tv set just keeps it all from being clear
I want a reason for the way things have to be
I need a hand to help build up some kind of hope inside of me

And I’m calling all angels
And I’m calling all you angels

When children have to play inside so they don’t disappear
While private eyes solve marriage lies cause we don't talk for years
And football teams are kissing queens and losing sight of having dreams
In a world where all we want is only what we want untill it’s ours

And I’m calling all angels
And I’m calling all you angels
And I’m calling all angels
(I won’t give up if you don’t give up)
And I’m calling all you angels
(I won’t give up if you don’t give up)
Calling all you angels
(I won’t give up if you don’t give up)
Calling all you angels
(I won’t give up if you don’t give up)
Calling all you angels

Blessings! and until we meet again.

Pick Me! Pick Me!

Pick me, pick me!  How often as children and maybe even as adults have we hoped to be chosen to give the answer or join the team.  Everyone dreaded the know-it-all and no one wanted to be picked last for the team.  In between all this are those individuals that rarely say a thing, or are picked somewhere in the middle of the line-up of potential teammates.  

So many of us are in that middle ground, we have the answers but do not share, we want to play but it doesn't really matter which team we are on.  We coast through life just hoping to get by, maybe someone notices us, maybe no one does.  It's okay, it really doesn't matter, until we lose someone we love.

But if you are someone who likes to express themselves, who knows what team they would like to be on, losing someone can be quite interesting.  I am verbal, I have read many books in my life and have a cache of useless trivial knowledge stored in my brain.  Occasionally a tidbit of this knowledge pipes up and there I go again, having the most obscure answers to something.  My kids have dubbed them mom isms.  

When my daughter died, at first I was very quiet, just wanted to be alone, seeking solace.  If I couldn't achieve it at home, I would take a ride to the seashore and listen to the crashing waves.  On those days where I needed to stay close to home, I would often pick up a coffee after dropping my son off at school and head to the cemetery.  Yes, the cemetery, it is a great place to be alone with your thoughts, cry and scream out loud if need be, or just sit and talk to your loved one.  Besides no one bothers you, they may nod as they walk by, say a quick morning, but that's it, you are left pretty much by yourself.  I would do this when I knew I couldn't get peace and quiet at home.  

As time went on, I found myself wanting to talk, to share my story, and thankfully I found some willing souls who allowed me to do just that.  At home however, it was a different story, if I talked about Rachel, my son would retreat, my daughter would say here you go again and my husband would begin to tear up.  It became very difficult and uncomfortable, I felt as if I were walking on eggshells around my immediate family.  These are the people who are supposed to understand, the ones who stand by you through thick or thin.  Why then did they not want to talk about Rachel, why was this topic such taboo.  

My belief was if I shared her story, I would some how find healing, by talking about her I was insuring that her memory lived on.  It was working for me, but definitely not for the rest of my immediate family.  

You may find yourself in this very awkward situation, some may walk away from you, others shrug you off.  Still others my plainly tell you to shut-up, enough already.  Now all of a sudden, you feel as if everything around you is falling apart.  I thought we all felt the same way, why is it so hard to talk about any of this.  What we fail to see is that we do not all travel on this path in sync.  We are all at different legs of this journey, a few are still in shock, some are in denial, there are those who are angry, some bob around in a sea of confusion, others have learned to accept the death, and some know that they must go on.  

At a meeting that I was at earlier this evening, I noticed that when the group was asked a question, a few readily answered, while others waited, weighing their questions in their heads.  "What if it's not the right answer, what if it's a dumb question?  Let's see what the majority says, then I'll chime in.  As I drove home, I started to think about my blog topic, and realized how we play out this scenario in many aspects of our lives.  You get a feel for your audience, you watch for the reactions to what is said, and then you respond accordingly.  

Grief is so similar, we watch the reactions of others, we avoid saying 'the name' in some environments, we know when we can talk and when it is best to say nothing at all.  Until one day when we say ENOUGH! I need to talk, I need to share, can someone just please listen to me.  I had and still have a handful of wonderful souls, who let me ramble on, saying whatever comes to mind.  I also sought out counseling which let me openly discuss and say things I wouldn't dare say to family or friends.  This gave me an avenue to share not only my emotions, but the hurts dealt to me by well-meaning people.  

Pick me! Pick someone.  Find a sounding board, someone who will let you be you, without judgement, without pity, allowing you to say what comes to mind. In a book I read "Rachel's Cry, A Journey Through Grief" - real name, and yes, I may have picked it up because of the name.  In it the author, Richard A. Drew, M.D., expresses his journey through grief in poetry.  It was his way of sharing his loss, and how it effected him.  In his introduction he states "My goal in writing these poems was primarily self-therapy.  However, I hope sharing them might help others who are struggling through grief."  

Here is an excerpt from one of his poems, The Psychiatrist:

"I want my son back.  I want to know why

He died. Since that is not possible,

Who'll cry along with me and hold my hand,

And will let me be as sad as I choose

Without giving advice.  Who won't leave when I lose

My temper.  Who'll hear without judging when

I rail at God and ask where has He been.

I want you to care, then, if you see fit,

Break my heart gently.  Don't smash it to bits."

So go ahead raise your hand, answer that question, be the first in line.  Talk about it if that is what you need, or just sit quietly with someone who understands.  But most importantly allow yourself to grieve. 

Blessings! and until we meet again.