For obvious reasons I'm not in the best
of places. Saying that final goodbye was
hard enough. But the months if not years
of continuous highs and lows have taken
their toll on all of us. Which in my case
means that suddenly, anytime, any where
I just might break out in tears. And while
I certainly don't want to be considered a
cry baby - I simply can't seem to stop my
emotional nature from frequently flowing.
Some may consider tearing up ultimate
proof that I'm a poof. But honestly what's
so queer about shedding some tears?!
Turning on the water works comes
naturally to me. However music
seems to be the primary prompter
of my perpetual stream of emotion.
Today as I ironed I watched one of
my favorite flicks - High Society
starring Grace Kelly, Bing Crosby,
and Frank Sinatra. It's nothing but
frothy at best - no drama there! So
do I blame those tears dripping on
my freshly pressed linens on some
trite Cole Porter ditty? Or has life
finally pushed me over the edge?!
While big girls are not supposed to
cry... they freely do. Sexist dictums
aside, I suffer from "man-oh-pause"
a phenomena that leaves me running
hot and cold. Could my emotional
emissions be caused by a hormonal
imbalance? Or has the impact of all
that we've experienced finally hit
home? All that I know is that like it
or not, I cry like a wee baby for no
reason. And while that may dampen
other's spirits, turning on the agua
actually makes me feel a bit better.
Of course I cried at the funeral. Who
wouldn't?! Rather than tears of sorrow
my ocular outpouring was driven by
outrage. How could he do that?! We
couldn't believe any one could be so
cruel. Yet as the service progressed
my eyes were opened to the beauty
of what was being said and sung.
Somehow we all rose above those
circumstances to honor a beloved
lady. Thus God took us to a much
better place against all odds. Now,
doesn't the make you want to cry?
We continue to get your cards and
letters. Yesterday I found a new one
on the kitchen counter. Within was
a lovely note about Frank's Mother,
her example, and her legacy. Then
the writer shared their memories of
my Mother. Fondly recalling how
she lovingly cared for my father in
his final days. And mentioning a
picture of my parents that sits by
my bedside. All at once I was a
sodden mess. Proof that even after
time passes, LOVE NEVER DIES.
Some of us can't help our passionate
nature. Years ago a dear friend cried
at the drop of a hat in the workplace.
Some felt that such a public display
of vulnerability was a liability. With
the help of a coach she soon learned
to control her emotions. And while
she ultimately stemmed said tide,
she never lost her compassion nor
commitment to giving her all. Today
she is the President of a retail brand.
When she got that job - I cried tears
of joy. I couldn't have been prouder!
There's no reason that we all can't
have a good cry once in awhile. If
for no other reason that said tears
facilitate emotional release. More
important - stopping and refocusing
enables us to ponder things that we
otherwise bury deep within. Hence
each time I tear up, I reflect on who,
what, and why I was pushed over
the edge. Suddenly I'm all the better
for having sobbed like a baby. Thus
whether it's manly or not, I plan to
keep on crying and crying damn it!
