I Never Used to Cry

My eyes seem to be on the edge of moisture at all times. My heart is so emotionally squishy, it is easily moved by the smallest of events. This is unfamiliar territory for me: all of this crying, and all of these tears. I have always felt deeply, really deeply. But in the past, I would fight the desire to cry, and keep the tears trapped inside.

Over the last few years, my defenses have been worn down. My tear-ducts are weary from all the exercise they've endured, and there is no stopping the release of emotions.

I never used to cry.

But I cry now.

In the past, I could probably count on one hand the amount of times I would cry in a year. (OK, maybe two hands.) When I say, "crying," I mean the uncontrollable flood that comes from intense feelings; not just the little tears that fall from a touching movie scene, or a heartfelt talk given at church.

Before Charles died, tears were not my companions, as they are now. I can only remember a few times throughout our whole marriage, when he held me, while my tears fell. I just did not cry a lot. I was more of a take-action type of girl. I wanted to fix things, and make things better. Allowing Charles to hold me in a state of "weakness" seemed, well, weak. I did not fancy myself weak, and so I would physically hold back feelings, emotions, and tears. I would talk about my feelings -- Charles was supportive, and helpful -- but I rarely let him see me fully let loose and cry. Maybe I did not want to scare him, or have him think I was a cry-baby.

Well, he knows I am a cry-baby now!

I have been thinking, if I ever have the chance to marry again, my spouse might want to carry a hanky in his pocket at all times. I do not think I could avoid letting the tears fall, even if I wanted to. As the emotionally squishy creature I have become, tears are just a part of me, and I no longer see crying as weakness, but as strength. They say, "Big girls don't cry." Well, that is a bunch of garbage.

Big girls DO cry!

Crying is a manifestation of a heart full of feeling. The ability to feel, to love, to cry... it is a gift. It is a gift I am learning to embrace, as I tear down the layers of protection I have built up around my heart. Am I allowing myself to be vulnerable; liable to feel too much? Yes! But to feel deeply, is to truly live. Having deep feelings, is far better than feeling numb.

I have walked through the gauntlet of grief -- and will continue to do so -- but I am very much alive.

My heart is full of love.

My eyes are full of tears.