Ageing Aunt Mildred was a 93-year-old woman who was particularly despondent over the recent death of her husband. She decided that she would just kill herself and join him in death.
Thinking that it would be best to get it over with quickly, she took out her late husband's old army pistol and made the decision to shoot herself in the heart, since it was badly broken in the first place.
Not wanting to miss the vital organ and become an incapacitated burden to someone, she called her doctor's office to inquire as to just exactly where the heart would be on a woman.
The doctor said, "Your heart would be just below your left breast."
Later that night Mildred was admitted to the hospital with a gunshot wound to her knee. Boom-tish!
Now that's a very ordinary email joke doing the rounds, but it piqued my curiosity about this notion of a broken heart actually causing death.
Earlier this year an old friend, Maureen, died of multiple brain tumours at age 70. Her husband passed away just three months later, his body found crumpled beside the old marital bed by a worried neighbour. He may have hit his head, doctors said, but they couldn't be sure.
At the funeral, the official line was "Nick died of a broken heart". Mourners seemed somehow gladdened by this romantic explanation, as if it poetically captured the essence of true love.
I just found it incredibly sad. Medically, it seemed a cop-out.
And yet ... new evidence from the world of obscure research projects has shown that the intense physical and emotional stress of recent bereavement, particularly of a partner or child, can, in fact, directly bring on a heart attack.
Lead researcher, University of Sydney lecturer Dr Thomas Buckley, says: "Research over the last 50 years has shown that when someone very close to you dies, you're at a significantly greater risk of dying yourself."
Apparently more than half of the excess deaths closely following bereavement are caused by heart attack, and age is not a factor. Those least likely to be struck down are the grievers who are better prepared for death.
The inference here is that we are all potential grievers who need to appreciate the frailty of life around us. The onus is upon us to treat our loved ones as though they might be torn away from us this very day, and that this will make saying goodbye so much easier.
But I disagree. I think a greater responsibility is to think about those who will grieve for us.
By that I mean we should regularly remind our loved ones of what makes us happy, of shared good times, of goals already achieved rather than those unattained. Our loved ones need to know that we didn't go kicking and screaming to the grave with a pile of regrets.
Just before my mother's second massive heart attack last month (which, incredibly, she survived), she took a moment to tell my sister and me that she was happy and ready and at peace with her fate. I know that if she had died at that moment, her peace would have become my own.
"Make my funeral a celebration," one community figure recently said, "because I have so much to celebrate". We did.
carrieon@bigpond.com
Carrie Cox is a journalist, author and mother who one day hopes to finish a cup of coffee while it's still hot.