Broken brain; broken heart

I've begun to slowly reread to the book The Grief Recovery Workbook by John W. James and Russel Friedman.

In the very early pages there's a quote that I highlighted on my first trip through the book. It obviously struck me that first time, but it struck me even more strongly today.

They say "Grief is about a broken heart, not a broken brain." I think that is absolutely true. Let me see if I can explain why I think it's true.

At one level, when Faye died my heart was broken, or even ripped in half but my brain was not.  That's not to say I haven't suffered brain fog, or have always been in a place of great mental clarity.

Grief does cause brain fog. But I wonder if, maybe, that's really just the brain protecting you from being destroyed by your sorrow.

I'm thinking out loud here. My blog, I get to do that.

It was my heart that was broken. It's my heart that needs to be healed. Far too many well meaning people attempt to address my brain in their efforts to comfort.

Telling me that Faye's in a better place is an example of that. m
My brain knows that perfectly well. (To be honest my brain also thinks that cliche is a pretty mushy way to describe the glory of Heaven where is more alive than ever. My brain gets it. My brain doesn't need to ponder that. It's my heart that misses her and it's my heart that's aching and lonely today.

Another thing grievers hear is something to the effect of "you should be over this by now." I must have some wise friends because I've never heard that. I know many grievers who have. That's an attempt to address broken brains, while missing the broken hearts that are at issue.

How are broken hearts healed? That's a hard one. I'm not sure I have the answer. But I know I need to express my sorrow, as openly as possible. Simply dealing with it and moving on offers no help to the broken heart. Understanding the deep emotional need of the broken hearted ones, while respecting the facts that their brains are fully functional is helpful. Friendship is helpful. Refraining from offering advice about something you might not understand is helpful.

It's my heart that needs healing, not my brain.

But I press on.