My First Internship
It was my first internship on my path to being a counselor and I was working in a funeral home under the grief counselor there (grief and trauma is my focus).
We were taught to be strong and supportive to those grieving, of course, and if we needed to cry, we were supposed to go in the back or to the bathroom. On one memorable occasion, I helped an elderly lady view her husband before the service.
I showed her to a chair in front of the casket—and then watched as despair as she completely lost it. The poor woman laid down on the casket, bawling her eyes out and declaring how much she loved him and missed him. She begged him not to leave her and to come back. That totally destroyed me.
I immediately started crying behind her. She stood up and I sucked it up to help her walk back into the hall to start greeting guests. I thought I had done a good job collecting myself, but my mentor took one look at me and softly said “go to the back room,” which I did.
I completely lost it for a few minutes, cleaned up, and went back to help with the service. I definitely needed that minute. Story credit: Reddit / Tacomapenguin81