Crying just doesn't fit into my schedule. On an average day I have a to-do list a mile long and I already know that only a fraction of it will get completed. There's just no time.
Crying is uncomfortable for others. I want my son to feel safe and happy and loved at all times. I don't allow myself to cry around him because I can't attend to him or respond to him in the manner that I want to when I've let my emotions go. And the men in my life question my stability when I cry. Thankfully, I heard a new report on the biological response in men to women crying, so they get a pass; otherwise I'd be questioning their stability in having such a negative reaction to my natural emotions. And of course I don't want to be teary-eyed, red-nosed and snotty when I bump into people in public. I don't have enough alone time.
Crying lets me feel sorry for myself. And I can't start a pity party. I know that bad things happen to good people. I know that life isn't fair. I know that others have it harder than me. I know that God has a purpose for this, even if it's not clear to me now. I don't need to cry.
So I've pretty much learned to control my emotions over my own situation in relation to my mother. Here we ago again with 'control'. But the floodgates open when I read the blogs I've been following about others' battles with cancer. I feel so much compassion for these strangers. Awe in their strength. Heartbreak with their setbacks. Admiration of their courage. Humility in being able to share such a personal and private time with them. I feel so deeply for these families I don't even know.
Today I received the news that one of these families came to end of their battle with cancer. I'm crying for their loss. And it feels good.
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