I read from the book Healing After Loss by Martha Whitmore Hickman that ((Alffe)) sent my every day. I read the days daily meditations but many days I also skip ahead and other times I just pick pages at random.

I read this one last night, and it is still with my today.....

"Give sorrow words;the grief that does not speak
Whispers the oe'r fraught heart and bids it break" ~ William Shakespeare

"The pressure of unspoken grief is like that inside a pressure cooker-it builds and builds until one feels as though another tiny increment of pain will drive one mad.

Speak. Tell a friend. Tell another friend, or the same friend again. A wise friend will know one must tell this tale again and again.

one way to begin-particularly if death has been unexpected and hard to believe-is to recount to this understanding friend, in as much detail as you can remember, the events of the day on which the death occurred. "I got up in the morning. I had my usual breakfast of cereal and juice and coffee. I read the paper."- as mundane as that.

This kind of retelling of the day grounds the events in the real world and helps us begin to believe the terrible truth of the day. What happened is not a fantasy, or something we can put in a bubble and hold away from the rest of our life. It took place in a real time, on a real day, and while it will be terribly sad to recount, the recounting will help release the pressure inside and activate the flow of healing-friend to friend."

.................................................. ...........................

I agree with everything above and with a " natural" death I agree it does help with the healing process. My family has done this very thing with different deaths of loved ones...... But it is so different with a violent suicide.

Who could hear once, say nothing about over and over....

What the violent death of the man I loved so much has done to me?

The graphic details of what I saw that day?

Who could handle what I myself can't bear to tell?

I have a wonderful family and loving friends. Yet, as much as they might want to help, they can't.

I have been through therapy, I hated the nodding of the head like they understood, they don't!! The fake empathy...I took as much as I could.

As much as I love my family and friends...I have no "one" trusted person I could share such horrific things with...Or perhaps I am too afraid of what will happen, to what is left of me, if I try to reopen the wound....... If I reflect back, get too close to reliving that day.......

So, I come here and share generalities of the hell I now know since Dad's suicide....

~sigh