I cry . . .easily, and some would say that I cry a lot, which I may or may not do, depending on your definition of ‘a lot’. I cry when something causes me pain or brings me joy, and sometimes, I laugh so hard that I end up in tears, as well. Although not always welcomed or understood by some people who are more emotionally reserved or detached, crying really is okay, at least in my presence. Crying was the common denominator in the one thing that I did for myself and for my oldest daughter this evening.
After a particularly rough Saturday, I began to rebound today, only to feel the sting that comes when someone close to you says and does something that is known to be hurtful to you. When I felt the familiar pang of the pain accompanies being hurt, I first berated myself for allowing this person to hurt my feelings, but as the feelings intensified and the tears sprang up, I finally relented and allowed the tears to flow for a bit. Sometimes, having a good cry is what I need to express the hurt, rather than hold it inside to cause more pain. So, in private, I cried, and while it did not undo what had been said and done, afterward, it did help me to cope with it from a better place.
My oldest daughter also discovered the healing value of a good cry. After missing a week of school, due to a recent virus, as she prepared to return to school tomorrow, she began to worry about her ability to make up the missed class work, tests, and quizzes. She is usually not one to worry and is an ‘A’ student, so, to listen to her verbalize her self-doubt and fear of failure and watch her dissolve in tears was surprising and heartbreaking. As she sank into my lap and flung her arms around her neck, I first didn’t say anything and just held her and rocked her gently, then I reassured her that it was okay to cry. She broke into sobs that soaked my neck and shirt, and I kept soothing her and allowing her to let the tears do her talking. Once she calmed down, we addressed her concerns and came up with a positive plan to deal with the apprehension about going back to her classes. When the last tear had been cried, my daughter gave me a final hug and said, “Thanks for hugging me and letting me cry, Mom”. She was more than welcome.
Just one thing each day . . .
Categories: Just One Thing Each Day