14 years ago, when I was very young (I mean reeeaaaalllll young), my mother died of cancer. I was super religious for a good while but it wavered intensely after a couple of years when I had a breakdown in the middle of my [confirmation](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Confirmation_in_the_Catholic_Church). My father had to pull me off this kind old priest who, as far as I remember, mentioned my mother on the off hand. He may have said something like, "It's a shame she wasn't here for you today". My family had taken solace in the thought of her watching down on us always and this priest had said what I misinterpreted as "You mum isn't looking after you". So after my outburst, I was brought home and locked in my room while my family and relatives went to a dinner reservation they had got at a real fancy restaurant. 

So I was left in the house alone, still having a freaker, emotions about the place, screaming into the dark. I didn't turn on the lights because I was at the point everything was pissing me off. After about 20 minutes of screaming into the dark, I sat by the radiator in my room. I started talking to my mother, or at least hoping I was. I kept saying things along the lines of......"You're not watching, you're not watching. Stop fucking lying. Granny lied. You don't care. Ffffuuuuccccckkkk. Fffffuuuuccckkk." Essentially desecrating her name with words. It was mid spring at this point in the year, so we didn't put the heating on. After about 30 seconds of this, the radiator became very hot, very quick. So hot, it scalded by back and I pushed forward and kicked the book case opposite the radiator. Some books fell out of the shelves but only one opened in front of me. It was an old tattered book my mother had from back in her days as a medical student. It was old. Real old. Like so old it still used brown paper as a book cover. She used it like her own personal medical guide for minor/common injuries and conditions. She wrote in it, Half Blood Prince style. Each page writing on it, some useful tips, others purely personal notes. The page it landed open on was in the heart chapter, specifically a page on heart attacks and how to deal with them. In the top corner, she had written "Not to be confused with BHS (Broken Heart Syndrome). 

I know it sounds corny but it's 100% genuine. As sad as it sounds, it was quite scary. I didn't even hit me what had just happened until like a minute later after I had almost completely up ended the entire shelf.