My understanding of a black hole--which is a hazy, non-scientist understanding, so take it for what it's worth--is that they're an exponentially intensified version of a diamond. Take coal and add pressure you get a diamond. Now add more pressure to that diamond. Now add more pressure. Add so much pressure that atoms are condensed, gravity drawing all matter in squeezing the living daylights out of it all.
I imagine grief as a black hole, beginning as the heart is squeezed in an invisible fist of the irreversible weight of an ending, causing the collapse of the heart and drawing everything within range into the swirling blackness. For a while you wear the event horizon around you like a painful crown, you watch as everything you treasured, hoped for, dreamed of, and once were spins, torn from their place in the heavens where they should be. Then you are left on the other side of a one way door in a new universe. What will it be? Are there no familiar constellations to guide your ship by? Are there no ships? Would it be better to not remember as you walked into this new world?
(Another basic resource on black holes) http://www.nasa.gov/audience/