I have always cried easily. I remember a sad story from a grade-school magazine. It was about a horse that died. I read the story and cried. Read it again and cried. Read it, well, you get the picture. I was so pathetic that my oldest sister finally grabbed the magazine away from me and wouldn’t give it back. Tough love. Or else I had finally gotten on her last good nerve.
When I was 13 the country singer Jim Reeves died in a plane crash. My parents really liked his voice, so we had half a dozen of his albums. I cried so hard over his death that my eyelids were still swollen the next day.
And please don’t ask about my reaction to the 1971 movie Brian’s Song. It was based on Brian Piccolo, a professional football player who died of cancer at the age of 26. It took two days for my eyes to return to normal after that.
When my own children were younger and we’d be watching a movie together and something sad occurred, my son Tim would turn to look at my face, anticipating (correctly) that tears would spring forth.
These days my tears primarily show up for real life situations instead of movies, stories, or heart-tugging commercials.
In her book God Never Blinks, Regina Brett shares that she’s been a lifetime crier. Growing up, she cried every single day. She finally got through a school day without crying, but it took her until 8th grade to accomplish that goal!
She ended up talking to a counselor about trying to control her tears. She credits the counselor with two amazing points of view on the subject:
1) Cry with another person instead of crying alone because those combined tears can be ones of healing. While that may sound odd at first, consider the last funeral you attended. Shared tears are definitely better than private ones. Someone crying with you is pure evidence that they care.
2) Don’t look at crying as something inherently negative. I love this quote from the counselor: “What a wonderful gift, to feel so intensely.” Read that again and let it sink in. So instead of holding back our emotions, denying them, our tears can be evidence that (Thank God!) we FEEL deeply about someone or something.
While Christmas is a joyous time for most of us, the season can evoke strong feelings of loss and sadness as we remember those we love who are no longer alive to share this special time with us.
And for those for whom it’s a “first” Christmas without that beloved spouse, mom or dad, child, sister or brother, aunt or uncle, dear friend, or other special someone, it is especially difficult. Memories of Christmases past with our loved ones are vivid. We miss them especially that first year. Without their presence, we may not want to celebrate or even try to celebrate.
We are each unique in our recovery from grief. So be kind and understanding of those in your life who don’t want to “do” Christmas. Don’t insist they “get over it.” Show up for them, give a hug, and remember that it is indeed a gift to share tears.
To my readers: Share a special Christmas memory about someone who has passed on.
Norma, one of my favorite memories (and I can watch the video of it whenever I want) was of our mother a year before she died. I had taken my granddaughter, Erica, who was then 5 years old, up to her home to help decorate the Christmas tree that our brother Gene had put up for her. Her caregivers had arranged a Christmas party for her so there were probably about seven people there. We were putting the decorations on the tree when a carload of carolers from the Methodist Church in Seward came to the window and serenaded us with Christmas hymns. Mother was very teary eyed. Then, Erica helped her Grammy Bertie open her gifts and, later, we had our cookies and milk – well, actually, mother had her favorite treat, a strawberry milkshake. She was surrounded by people who loved her, in her own home, and I know it made her feel very blessed to have her own special Christmas party.
What an extraordinary memory. Thank you for sharing. I hope you show Erica the video each Christmas. It can become a tradition, like watching It’s a Wonderful Life.