Tag Archives: tears of joy

Tears of Joy, Tears of Sorrow, Sometimes I Just Need a Good Cry

Tears of Joy, Tears of Sorrow, Sometimes I Just Need a Good Cry  Robin Botie of Ithaca photographs magic carpet spirea for illustration of how joy and sorrow can blossom together.Sometimes I just need a good cry. Preferably at the movies where I can recover easily, I might have said in the past. But a good cry should not be feared. And an opportunity to do some serious sobbing came up the other evening when a small group of bereaved parents had baked a cake, and were singing Happy Birthday to one of our deceased children. Watching the exquisite storm of gratitude, pain, and love in the mother’s eyes, I remembered that conflicting whirlwind of emotions—the joy of having your child remembered and honored, the sadness of seeing each subsequent birthday sweep you ever further away from the time you were together, and just plain missing your beloved one—This can turn the toughest of us into desperate howling messes. A similar, old familiar storm brewed in my own heart. And I welcomed it.

If you are not one of the unfortunates initiated into the hellhole of child loss, you may be wondering—Why torture yourself like that?

Strange as it seems, I never want to forget the rawness of the pain of loss. If I can recall how my worst times felt, I can listen, understand, and be of comfort to someone else. A good cry is not to be feared. In being a living human, there’s a spectrum of emotions to be experienced. I write and talk a lot about finding joy, however this is only one part of the human experience. I want it all. I need to cry. I need to dare to love.

Love makes you happy, and love makes you sad. Grief and pain are simply the residue of your love when the joyful times seem like eons away. Often, I want to hug my grief the way I want to hug and hang onto my daughter who died. Tears are tangible remains of what I have left of her now. My love pours out, and I love those tears.

“You’re happy,” a friend pointed out to me recently. And I immediately felt guilty, as in—I lost my daughter, I’m not supposed to feel happy. This simply is not right. We are human. We can experience it all.

Jolly Reds, pinks, hot lime and deep greens bloom on the Magic Carpet Spirea plant in my garden. Like multi-colored teardrops. Tears of joy and sorrow. They blossom together.

 

Trying to be Happy for the Holidays

Robin Botie of Ithaca, New York, photoshops a picture of her son with a pained smile on his face during Christmas vacation.Merry. Heartwarming. Happy. This week I wanted to report something cheerful, to make up for my last post where people responded, “So sad” and “I cried buckets of tears.”

Having a good cry every now and then is healthy for us. Crying supposedly reduces stress, lowers blood pressure, and removes toxins from the body. Personally, I love a good cry-fest, especially if it stems from someone else’s sorrow. Seeing sad movies and reading books that make me blubber uncontrollably are perfect for giving my compassion a workout. But it’s Christmas. And I’m trying to be happy today.

I promised friends I’d serve up something uplifting this time even though spouting out joy and raucous laughter is still beyond my capabilities. Instead, I decided to aim for serenity. And peacefulness.

So, on this quiet early morning I’m remembering the times, decades ago, when my father used to take me and my kids to a warm sunny place during the holiday week. I’m thinking of my little boy who sat smiling gratefully in the warmth of the tropical paradise we knew as Christmas back then. Actually, that smile is appearing more and more pained (as opposed to grateful), the more I look at this photo. But anyway, the boy has since grown to be a man merrily making his own way through holidays, and through life. This, to me, is Merry. Heartwarming. Happy. And even so, it still brings a tear or two. Of joy. Mostly.

 

What are you remembering during this holiday week?