Tag: Grief and Grieving

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How Men Grieve

Face this profound challenge by staying connected and finding friends who will listen

By Jackson Rainer

A friend asked with genuine concern, “How are you?”

“I’m OK. Not very happy, never am. I think the world is a pretty crazy place, but I’m OK,” I replied.

“Really? You look troubled. I’m asking because I want to know how you are … really,” she said.

Even with the loving nudge, I said, “Really…I’m fine.”

I was not fine and apparently it was more obvious than I wanted to admit. Now several years after my wife’s death, I am still feeling, with alarming frequency, the cloying sense of loss due to the absence of my “better half” with whom I lived and loved most of my adult life.

Even though I am well trained as a psychologist and have years of my own psychotherapy, I am generally loath to admit this ongoing sense of loneliness to myself, certainly not to anyone else.

Minutes before my friend’s inquiry, I was giving myself a good talking-to, thinking out loud, “You are just going to have to bear this and live with it. You are in this all alone, big boy. Get used to it.”

Defaulting Into Solitude Rather Than Connection

Understanding the way men grieve has new and deeper meaning for me as a widower. I’ve studied the phenomena as a researcher and clinician for years. Experiencing life after loss is fundamentally different territory from thinking about life after loss. Contemporary theories suggest that men and women express grief along a continuum of styles ranging from those called intuitive, centering on the expression of affect, to those called instrumental, who find physical and cognitive expression more palatable.

Men tend to lean toward the instrumental expression of grief, orienting to emotional control, a disinclination to talk about matters of the heart, to default into solitude rather than connection and to focus on action more than talk. I fall squarely in this masculine camp.

Young boys are socialized in ways that profoundly impact the expression of grief as adult men. Though the social and interpersonal needle has moved toward open expression of feeling as acceptable and desirable, most of us guys hear our Y chromosome rattle when we are asked to put words to heartbreak, confusion, vulnerability and the sense of “free-falling” without intimate support.

We tend to close down opportunities for connection and authentic support while adapting to the world in the absence of our loved one. Stoicism is valued more as a marker of independence and dignity, while vulnerability feels dangerous, weak and ill-advised.

The cultural expectation about what constitutes healthy grieving holds that to heal, a person must speak of, process and “work through” personal thoughts and feelings, sharing them out loud and in the presence of others. In this rubric, the bereaved person adapts to the world in the absence of their loved one by maximizing social support and investing in other relationships and meaningful activities.

However, for many men, the pain of grief is absorbed and processed differently. While the grief experience naturally creates opportunities to turn inward and slow to a more deliberate pace of life, when viewed through a traditional male social lens, this feels threatening, since masculinity typically is equated with striving, moving and activity.

Helpful Road Markers for Healing

So, if it is the case that men typically grieve in a different way than women, how can the experience be processed in a healthy and meaningful way? There are several road markers that are helpful:

Find a safe place to mourn. The Jungian analyst Jerry Wright says, “Go to the place you call holy and weep.” Having one or two confidants who serve as witnesses to another’s grief may enhance the sense of anchoring to the world. Those friends who can listen and be present without judgment are invaluable, particularly when loneliness feels isolating, cold and prickly.

Stay active. Depression is insidious and seductive. Withdrawing from the world leads to a sense of stuckness. As noted, there is value in finding friends who can offer activity, companionship, collegiality and time for reflection. Many men report that sharing vulnerable and tender emotions and thoughts is easier in the context of activity.

Be careful, though. There is one activity that doesn’t particularly heal: work. While throwing yourself into work is distracting, it creates distance from the time and space needed to heal. Certainly, productive activity is necessary and good to make it through the day. But work can be agitating and complicating to the attribution of meaning of the loss.

Know that there is no one way to grieve correctly. Many people hold opinions about “how you’re doing.” Most are loving, but they are like another’s clothes: they may neither fit nor be to your taste. Honest, personally felt acknowledgement of the loss and its day-to-day impact is more relevant, whatever form it takes.

For some, mustering strength and activity is effective. For others, becoming thoughtful and analytical about the death makes sense. For many men, the expression of new or unusual feelings, such as anger or living on the verge of tears, is alarming. The bottom line is found by staring the loss in its face and feeling whatever comes from this profound challenge.

Avoid clichés. Not long ago, an old friend who knows a great deal of my personal path of grief, asked after me. “I’m sitting up and taking nourishment,” I laughed snarkily, while hoping he would leave me alone. Rather than dismissing me or a making a bad attempt to provide a simple solution to my difficult reality, he said, “Let’s go to lunch and visit.” He heard past the funny cliché and invited himself into my world. We had a lovely meal and I was better for being with him.

Make contact with others. Grief teaches a hard lesson. Rather than waiting for others to seek me out, which will not happen (life goes on quickly for everyone except the mourner), I must put one foot in front of the other and find those people in places and events that entertain, satisfy and engage me. Men who mourn will need to tell others how to  invite contact. Remember to be prepared with a ‘yes’ to most invitations that come along the way, even when psychic energy is at a premium.

Be aware of holidays. Holidays and personally significant days provide psychological punctuation to our lives. Such days emphasize our loved one’s absence and bring corresponding pain. Holidays are oriented to family, tradition, continuity and familiarity. Recognizing that such days will unfold differently because of the loss will give a bit of perspective while still honoring the loved one’s death.

Watch for warning signs. Because many men are prone to run and hide from the experience of grief, real problems may emerge. The warning signs warranting careful attention are:

  • Depression lasting longer than two weeks or withdrawal from activities of daily living
  • Deterioration in family and friends’ relationships
  • Physical complaints, such as headaches, fatigue and low back pain
  • Chronic anxiety, agitation and restlessness, characterized by ruminations, obsessions or insomnia
  • Alcohol or drug abuse or dependence
  • Indifference toward others, insensitivity and workaholism

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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James Blunt breaks down in powerful music video starring dying father:

‘We’re just two grown men saying goodbye’

James Blunt with his father, Charles Blount.

British singer-songwriter James Blunt is best known for his sentimental heartbreak ballads “You’re Beautiful” and “Goodbye My Lover,” but his latest single “Monsters,” a tribute to his ailing father, is his rawest and most poignant yet.

In his devastating new “Monsters” music video, an anguished Blunt, in an extreme close-up reminiscent of Sinead O’Connor’s iconic, one-take “Nothing Compares 2 U” clip, stares down the lens, his eyes welling up with tears, as he sings: “I’m not your son, you’re not my father/We’re just two grown men saying goodbye… So Daddy, won’t you just close your eyes?/Don’t be afraid, it’s my turn/To chase the monsters away.”

Blunt struggles to maintain his composure throughout the first half of video, so much much so that it’s almost uncomfortable to witness. And when the camera finally cuts to a wider shot, it becomes clear why he is so distraught, that he isn’t acting, and that his tears are very real. Sitting stoically beside him is his real-life dad, former cavalry officer Colonel Charles Blount, who is battling stage 4 chronic kidney disease.

Last year on Good Morning Britain, Blunt spoke of his father’s serious illness and made a plea to possible organ donors, saying: “I’ve come on here to ask you what blood group you are. Some things have been going on in my life that I needed to write about. My father has not been very well, actually. He needs a new kidney and a kidney donor. And I’ve come on here to ask you what blood group you are. If you are an O-positive, I’ll take it off you.” (Blunt revealed that, sadly, he is not a match.)

On the same U.K. morning program, Blunt spoke of the experience of writing “Monsters” after learning of his father’s kidney disease, explaining: “Really that has been an amazing moment, because when you realize your father’s mortality, it’s a great opportunity to say the things I’d like to say to him.”

Fans, particularly those who have lost a parent or who are preparing to say goodbye to a sick parent, have taken to social media to praise the touching video, which went viral after William Shatner tweeted it to his 2.5 million followers.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Breathing New Life Into Death

5 Tech Companies From Female Founders Making Sure No One Grieves Alone

by Emma Payne

There’s a movement afoot, and as the new Broadway Beetlejuice show suggests; it’s all about death. From Death Cafes and Death Over Dinner, to the surge in new Netflix shows like Dead To Me and After Life, new life is pouring into old conversations about death. After decades kept firmly backstage, people are talking about death and grief, and bringing difficult conversations into the limelight.

Until now, the typical North American death-phobic response we have upon hearing of someone’s loss is reduced to a quick, “I’m sorry for your loss,” on Facebook. We may send flowers, or a card, but these often feel like empty gestures that do little to really support anyone. Most people who have just lost someone they love are in very real need of help, and fast. Traditional supports seem antiquated, expensive, and worse – impersonal.

Fortunately, help is here. In Baltimore, Chicago, New York, and Seattle, a group of female founders are on a mission to revolutionize death care and make sure no one grieves alone. Motivated by their own experiences with death, these women have created easy-to-use, thoughtful tools to help people navigate loss. Of course, death sucks, any way you look at it. No online tool can bring our loved ones back. But these women are working hard to normalize conversations about death, and make it easier – much easier – for people to help each other through grief.

First, meet Brooklyn-based Liz Eddy and Alyssa Ruderman, who co-founded Lantern to provide people with step-by-step guidance on how to navigate their lives before and after a death. When Liz’s Grandma died, she turned to Google in search of answers to her myriad questions about everything from funeral planning to closing accounts. What she found was a morass of unwieldy content, and none of the hand-holding she was looking for. So, Liz and Alyssa created Lantern, as a single source of guidance and information for end of life and death planning. It’s free to use their custom checklists and get help making your loved one’s funeral or celebration of life, everything you want it to be. I love that Lantern makes people feel empowered at a time in their lives when control is hard to come by.

Once you’ve survived the funeral, the daunting realities of grief come tumbling down. Litsa Williams and Eleanor Haley co-founded What’s Your Grief after they each lost a parent. Based in Baltimore, Litsa and Eleanor have built an incredible suite of practical and specific content and resources to help grieving people find a path forward. With their focus on education, exploration and expression, What’s Your Grief offers articles as well as affordable online courses on topics ranging from how to sort through a loved one’s belongings or develop strategies for surviving the holidays while grieving.

If you’re looking for ongoing grief support, Seattle-based Grief Coach sends personalized text messages all year long, based on your loss. And if you have friends and family who want to help, but aren’t sure how, they’ll receive tips and reminders too. Everyone’s messages will be customized based on things like cause of death, age, and your relationship to the person who has died.

I was inspired to create Grief Coach after the death of my husband and (a decade later) his best friend. After delivering the eulogy at my friend’s funeral, I was overwhelmed by the countless friends and family members who wanted to apologize for not having been there for me when my husband died. They were afraid, they said, and just didn’t know what to do. I created Grief Coach to answer the question of “I want to help, but don’t know how,” so that no-one would have to grieve alone.

Also in Seattle is Laura Malcolm, who founded Give InKind after losing her daughter. Laura had people around her who she knew wanted to help, but instead found herself in a room literally overflowing with flowers with no idea what to ask for, but a long list of things she wasn’t able to cope with on her own.

Give InKind brings together care calendars, fundraising, and wishlists. If you’re looking for a way to coordinate support, raise money for funeral expenses, and make it easy for friends and family to support you after a loss, GiveInKind is a great place to start. It’s free to create a page, and from there you can invite others to join and contribute.

And finally meet Ali Briggs and Rachele Louis in Chicago, who founded LifeWeb 360 after a friend’s brother died unexpectedly. As the years passed, Ali’s friend saw people’s memories of his brother fading away. He was worried that he couldn’t remember the sound of his brother’s voice anymore. LifeWeb 360 is a multimedia scrapbook that makes it easy for people to join together to collect and share memories that are then stored and shared online.

These eight women have created five valuable tools that recognize the power friends & family have to make a difference, after a loss.

LA mortician, Caitlyn Doughty, captures the no-nonsense spirit of these founders best, reminding us that; yes, there’s a movement afoot – but we don’t want to be a movement. Death is part of life, and what we really want is to normalize difficult conversations and bring death & dying into our day-to-day lives.

With founders like these women taking the reins, I have no doubt that we’re moving quickly towards a world where everyone has the help they need, after a death.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Do doctors grieve differently?

After Dr Alison Edwards’ soulmate died, grief took hold. Who else, she wondered, knew what this was like?

Dr Alison Edwards set up the website, Doc Grief, following the death of her partner Mick 15 years ago.

By Doug Hendrie

‘We really need to talk more about death … it is an inevitable part of life, and yet we shroud it in euphemism, hushed secrecy, and denial. We often grieve alone with little sense of shared understanding as we sanitise our emotions and somehow carry on.’

That is how South Australian GP Dr Alison Edwards began a talk she gave to her local palliative care team. And it is why she set up a website, Doc Grief, dedicated to supporting doctors who have lost loved ones.

That is what she wished existed when she lost her ‘soulmate’ Mick to a sudden cardiac arrest 15 years ago.

Dr Edwards’ own path of grief has shown her that doctors often grieve differently – and that the professional distance necessary to deal with death at work simply does not cope with personal grief.

‘I felt the need to know others had walked a similar path and survived, and to maybe find some tips about how best to achieve this,’ she told newsGP.

‘I wanted to read a story that was a close match to mine, but found very little in print about doctors grieving. So some years later I felt drawn to create such a site for others.’

Writing on her site, Dr Edwards tells the story of her loss:

Mick was the local footy legend, the cheeky butcher with a sparkle in his eyes. After 38 years of thinking life for me was destined not to be one of a long-term couple, it was really nice to have someone to love and be loved by and even see myself growing old with.

Mick had spent the afternoon out with the kids and had had a couple of beers down the pub while I was in at work. He was in one of his favourite positions – lying on the lounge channel-surfing. And then Mick had a cardiac arrest and died. No warning. No clues. Just chatting with me one minute about the perfume the kids had given me for Christmas and next minute making funny breathing noises as if he didn’t like the perfume.

Mick died, and the world as I knew it crashed down around me.

Mick was just 37.

In the immediate aftermath, Dr Edwards’ small community – Port Broughton on SA’s Yorke Peninsula – reached out. That, she found, was supportive and challenging.

‘It meant having to share my grief with the town. There was no opportunity to return to work and not have everyone wanting to express condolences,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t turn around without finding more scones, lasagnes and soup.

‘People want to do something physical, which is beautiful, but you also can’t be anonymous. In an urban practice, you could sneak back and your patients would necessarily know. Here, everyone knew.’

Dr Edwards took several months off following Mick’s death. When she returned to work, she printed little cards for her patients to read ahead of consultations.

The cards stated that Dr Edwards was doing okay and asked patients to treat it as a normal professional consultation.

‘No one could stick to it. I gave up,’ she explained. ‘Patients felt rude not to express their condolences.

‘The first time you see everyone, they feel the need to go through it. It made things a little bit harder.’

Since she set up the site, many GPs have told Dr Edwards that it has been helpful. Some have written to her seeking support. Others have contributed their own stories of grieving.

‘Reaching out to those with lived experience can be very supportive,’ she said.

‘I’ve had people write saying thank you so much for setting this up. Just knowing that someone else had lived the experience while having a broader understanding of the health system [is helpful].

‘Doctors do get the idea that random stuff happens. In the community, there’s often the expectation that we can fix everything, but doctors understand that things are unpredictable.

‘People do randomly have cardiac arrests and die.’

Dr Edwards believes doctors grieve differently, due to their familiarity with death and learned ability to maintain professional distance.

‘Knowing death so intimately may falsely lead us to think we are acquainted with grief, but when it comes to losing a loved one all bets are off,’ she wrote in a KevinMD article.

Dr Edwards believes that the stereotypical doctor personality traits – high achievers able to hide their emotions and focused on control – can pose particular challenges, as grief and loss are entirely uncontrollable.

‘Doctors spend most of their time observing … [but] unless we have loved in a dispassionate, dissociated way, we do not give our grief a fair chance if we do not live it,’ she wrote.

Dr Edwards’ grief was ‘very raw’ for the first few years. Over time, it gradually changed.

‘I went from feeling it with every breath and as if it was sitting right in front of me, to a place of living with it rather than living for it,’ she told newsGP.

But she still misses the shared life that could have been, writing:

I still love him and what he gave me. And I miss the future we didn’t get to share … I think I have a more profound sense of living life to my fullest capacity and valuing what I do have.

I have coped by taking one day at a time, allowing time to soften the impact and create new memories.’

There are no shortcuts and no way of bypassing the process of healing after a broken heart.

There are no right ways of grieving. Whatever you find works for you is probably the best for you. This is unlikely to be booze, drugs or running away but you may need to try this for yourself for a while before you believe it. There is no standard timeline. You do not get over it, you do not move on as if it could be left behind. But you do learn to live with it rather than be consumed by it.

Increasingly, Dr Edwards finds people grieving in her long-time community are seeking her out.

‘It has changed how I practise,’ she said.’ ‘You’re taught not to bring too much of yourself into the consultation, to keep your distance, be professional, as it’s not about you.

‘In a little community, it’s almost impossible to do that. Patients want that sense of connection – especially when they already know your story and you can’t duck away from it.’

Dr Edwards will share parts of her grief with patients to help normalise their own experiences.

‘You almost need to do this in smaller communities, but it might not be appropriate in an urban setting,’ she said. ‘There is power in a shared understanding.

‘Often people want to talk because they know I have that lived experience. Not to acknowledge that would be counterproductive.

‘We’re humans, we like to know we’re not alone. We can be reassuring, to let patients they’re not going mad – that this is a normal response.

‘It can be powerful to hear that from someone who lived it.’

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Challenging Cultural Norms About Death to Reframe My Grief

By Hannah Velten

I denied my grief for 15 years. My brother, Christian, had disappeared in Africa while traveling alone in 2003. But he wasn’t dead. He was still alive, just having problems that meant he couldn’t or didn’t want to return home. That’s what I told myself.

Part of me knew, though, that he was dead. But those hulking great feelings of panic, terror and abandonment would only surface on anniversaries and birthdays. Then I’d bury them and concentrate on life again. I didn’t know what to do with these feelings. I couldn’t label them as “grief,” because we had no news to say he was dead. But now I can see I was grieving. Of course I was. I’d been abandoned by my soulmate, whether he was dead or not.

The label for this type of grief would be “anticipatory grief,” but when you’re in the throes of searching for a missing person it feels disloyal to accept grief. I had also invested too much of myself and my time in trying to find him, via social media and media exposure, to stop and admit it was a wild goose chase. I was determined to find him. I had not been abandoned by him, and I certainly wasn’t going to abandon him.

But that’s what I was feeling. Abandoned. Left behind. Lost without direction. Yet years later, in 2018, when I did finally accept that Christian was dead, I had no feelings of abandonment. Why? Well, he’d been drugged and drowned all those years ago — he’d never meant to abandon me, or anyone — and, although he is no longer in the physical world (and his body has never been retrieved), he and I have a closer relationship now than ever before.

It’s a leap for most people because of the cultural norms we hold about death being the end of life. The end of the relationship. Grief, I believe, has its roots in abandonment. If you think you’ve been abandoned, you feel lonely, angry, distrustful and fearful. Depending on how your loved one died, and the relationship you had with them, you might also feel anger, guilt, shame or any number of other emotions towards yourself, them or others.

Abandonment is something no one wants to deal with, so when death affects us (and no one is immune), we label it “grief.” Grief is commonly understood — it’s expected when someone dies. There are stages of grief; there are books written about it. But what if grief is actually one thought: “I’ve been abandoned”?

We’ve all been abandoned at some point in our lives, and it’s painful. The first time I lost Christian was when he left for boarding school; my trust in him, and everything, shattered. Loss affects us emotionally, socially, financially and mentally — the death of a loved one is no different.

“Why have you left me behind?”

“What am I supposed to do without you?”

Common thoughts; well, they were my thoughts anyway. But the reality of death, in our experience, is that Christian didn’t, and hasn’t, abandoned me at all. He’s still perfectly alive, just in another room.

To get a full connection, like Christian and I have, I realized we needed to clear the “gunk” between us, which means releasing the fearful feelings between us — the anger, the mistrust, the shame, the hurt. Death brings these unhealed wounds to the surface, even in the best of relationships.

Through mediumship sessions, we’ve been working through our sibling relationship for almost a year — understanding and forgiving each other — when he was still physically missing in Africa. He’d repeatedly told me he was so changed, after being in Africa for 15 years, and that it would be a shock for us all on his return. He wanted to know that he could trust me, that I would protect him and look after him. That I would still love him whatever had happened. As I told him I loved him whatever he’d done and whatever he was now, I felt the unconditional love passed between us.

With clarity gained, Christian’s been free to move into the Light. This might have felt like another layer of abandonment, but because there was/is unconditional love between us, Christian went from being my brother to being my soul-brother — a wiser, all-knowing, ageless and eternal presence in my heart. He’s still my brother in the way we speak with each other, in the way he’s with me and the way he interacts with others.

At this point, if you are grieving and can’t seem to move on, ask yourself, “Do I feel abandoned?” If the answer’s ‘Yes’, you may just have your key to healing…

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Anger, sadness dominate day of mourning for homeless people who died in L.A. this year

Pancake, a community organizer, leads supporters as they march in downtown Los Angeles in tribute to homeless who died this year.

By Gale Holland

A joyous New Orleans-style Second Line parade to honor the roughly 1,000 homeless people who have died in Los Angeles County this year turned to anger on Friday, as skid row mourners stopped at City Hall to denounce elected officials for not halting the growing death toll.

Dozens of skid row residents and advocates, all decked out in Mardi Gras beads and flying black, gold and purple balloons, chanted: “Three a day! Too many!” They waved their fists at the windows of City Hall, where a homeless man in his 50s was found dead Tuesday night.

The parade and angry demonstration were part of National Homeless Persons Memorial Day, marked in dozens of cities.

Lorraine Morland speaks and sings to a crowd of supporters gathered outside City Hall to pay tribute to homeless people who have died this year in Los Angeles.

L.A.’s day of mourning began soberly at the James Wood Community Center with prayers, songs and the traditional recitation of the names of all people who died at skid row missions and programs. Later, advocates planned to release candles at Echo Park Lake, where dozens of people have been living and dying in tents over the past year.

The Los Angeles County Public Health found in October that deaths among homeless people have increased each year, from 536 in 2013 to 1,047 in 2018. The tally so far this year is 963, they said.

Pete White of the Los Angeles Community Action Network, the parade organizer, accused City Atty. Mike Feuer of hypocrisy for expressing sadness over the homeless man who died outside City Hall, the same week the U.S. Supreme Court declined to hear a landmark homelessness case that curbs police powers to clear homeless encampments when there aren’t enough shelter beds available.

Feuer and officials from several other cities and counties across California had asked the high court to either clarify or overturn the lower court ruling in City of Boise vs. Martin.

“The city attorney had the audacity to hold a press conference [about the death] … when, days before, his office was trying to figure out how to criminalize that man,” White said.

Rob Wilcox, the city attorney spokesman, said Feuer wanted the court to clarify the Boise ruling, not to extend police powers over homeless people.

Feuer announced the man’s death at a press conference on Wednesday morning.

“He was someone’s son. He might’ve been somebody’s dad or somebody’s brother,” Feuer said. “I don’t know. But I do know that he died alone, and if there is any truth to statistics, he is not alone.”

The first parade to mark National Homeless Persons Memorial Day took off at noon Friday from San Julian Park, accompanied by drums, a trumpet, a keyboard, bicycles festooned with beads and Christmas garlands, and a giant banner that included photos of skid row residents who had died. It was labeled “Death by neglect” and contained a dot map of every homeless death site in Los Angeles County in the past year.

Several singers led the crowd in “Wade in the Water” and other civil rights anthems. Stephanie Arnold Williams, a longtime skid row advocate, sped around the crowd in red sequined skates, live streaming the parade on Facebook from a solar-powered tablet strapped to her back.

“When death comes to the doorstep of City Hall, you know we must respond,” White said. “We are going to set up shrines to show our people didn’t die in vain.”

Several of the dead were remembered by name, including Rodney Evans, who died on skid row waiting to get housing.

The parade eventually returned to the skid row corner where Dwayne Fields, a longtime skid row street musician, was killed in August when his tent was set on fire in what authorities said was an intentional act.

A memorial sits Friday at the site where homeless man Darrel Fields was set on fire and died.

Jonathan Early, 38, who also was homeless, has been charged in Fields’ death. The death — and that of his partner, Valarie Wertlow, a month later — underscores the stakes in the epidemic of homeless deaths.

“Fields was a Jimi Hendrix impersonator in Las Vegas, and he was a better guitarist than Jimi Hendrix,” Anderson said. “It’s like genius is being snuffed out. This is all of our fight.”

In Echo Lake Park, homeless advocates place floating candles containing the names of homeless people who have died.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Teens Talk About Grief

In grief, things that don’t normally bug you can bring on strong feelings – anger, resentment, jealousy. And sometimes you feel guilt that you should have done more, spent more time with him or her, or just said ‘I love you’ one more time.