Weeping, wailing but no gnashing of teeth

Tonight my husband and I were exchanging bits of news and happenings from our lives.  I started telling him about “Grey’s Anatomy.”  He used to watch it, but doesn’t anymore.  I still watch it because I work from my living room every night until midnight and the television keeps me company.  He gets up very early these days, so he goes to sleep early.

I started describing the ending scene and to my utter horror, fell apart.  I snatched a tissue, but thankfully, the tears did not fall.  I could have collapsed into the “ugly cry” but instead I took several deep breaths to compose myself.  I was so keenly aware that these aren’t even real people, that this is just fiction, but I couldn’t help it.  (I won’t tell you what happened, exactly, but it was sad.)

Tonight, I watched most of the Farrah Fawcett special about her struggle with anal cancer.  I cried.  A lot.

Last Sunday (Mother’s Day!) I cried when my kids wouldn’t be nice to each other and me.  My teenage son, the one who caused me the most distress, had been performing a dramatic monologue, waving his arms with theatrical flair, demonstrating his vast vocabulary and said, “WHAT?  WHAT?  WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?”  And without intending to do so, I burst into tears.  He stopped, stared at me, then walked straight toward me, stooped down and hugged me.

At that point, of course, I cried more, but I also congratulated myself on raising a boy who responds to female tears with a hug, not words or defenses.  It was actually very sweet.

I cannot seem to stop crying at the most inopportune times.  I cry while watching “Survivor.”  I wept during “The Amazing Race.”  I’m tearing up just writing this about how much I cry.

I know it’s hormonal.  I think it has something to do with age.  Most of my life I have had easy access to a deep well of sadness.  Loss will dig that well in your heart.  I’m not sure you can ever really fill it back in once it’s been dug–and I don’t think I’d ever want to.  That’s the melancholy speaking in me.

I’m thinking I could hire myself out to cry for people who don’t have time or inclination to cry for themselves.  I am turning into a quite excellent crybaby.

But it does kind of make my head hurt.

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Weeping, wailing but no gnashing of teeth

10 thoughts on “Weeping, wailing but no gnashing of teeth

  1. My background is Swedish and I was taught early-on by a very strong father – and humiliated by two older brothers – in to believing it was ‘sissy’ to cry. I am NOT a person who cries easily or often. So when I DO cry, those around me who love me know I am deeply, deeply touched or hurt. Oh, if the world around me only knew how often I can cry on the INSIDE, tho. And yes…it’s age and hormones. Once past 50 the shortness of what’s left of life sure begins to sink in…everything, even cantankerous kids and all the frazzle-dazzle of our daily lives, becomes oh-so-much-more precious. I, too, have had easy access early-on to that deep well of sadness so I know exactly what you’re talking about, Mel.

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  2. I cry for anything. Any emotion, really. Sadness, embarrassment, joy, it doesn’t matter, if it has touched me in any way deeper than the skin, out come the tears. I cry during “Cats” … just not at the end, no, it’s the music itself that does it early on. I cry when any child on TV or a movie has lost a parent, having been through that, even when the movie otherwise stinks. I’ve cried for weight loss or depression medication commercials. For me, it’s not the age or the hormones, I’ve done this my entire life.
    You’re not alone.

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  3. I’m just like this as certain times of the month. There’s no way to prepare for it or combat it, so I just let myself cry. I’m not even embarrassed about it anymore. Not much, anyway. Let those tears come!

    And hooray for a teenage son who responds so kindly to your tears. That is a true gift and evidence that you’ve done something right with him.

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  4. typingfool says:

    Oh MissKris, I think you’re right. (And a coincidence that we’re both Swedish?) Suddenly in the past 6 months or so I’ve realized how “old” I really am. (I turned 52 on the 14th of May.) Even though I had a hysterectomy 6 years ago, suddenly I realize I will never have a child again. I’ll never dance all night again (arthritis). I’ll never live with all my siblings under one roof again. I will never do some things that I put off until I was old enough, and then never did them. That meakes me sad. Another part of it I think is the weather. I’m so sick of damp cold – it’s only been in the 60s recently, and rainy – more like Washington than Nebraska, Mel, so I can certainly understand the weepiness.

    Take pride in the fact that your son is obviously nurturing – despite any outward appearances to the contrary. (lol) That’s not something you see every day!

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  5. Ya know…I’m so with you on this one. It started when I was 7 months pregnant with my oldest. I was sitting in the car on a cold wintry day and “Dust in the Wind” came on the radio…I think I bawled for 5 minutes. Then I had her and the tears haven’t stopped. 🙂

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  6. LisaLouise says:

    Regarding the Grey’s Anatomy finale. OH. MY. GOSH. Had to watch it again just to make sure that what I saw is what I thought I saw…..

    Regarding crying at the drop of a hat: all those stored up tears have no where else to go. Ultimately they will demand expression. Hormones will see to that.

    P.S. This progesterone is making me fat AND crazy.

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  7. You are not alone. I got some tears reading your post. Anyway my friend and I who watch all the shows together were just talking last night about how we were glad we could cry in front of each other while watching tv shows. lol.

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