Thankful for tears you question? Why in the world would anyone be thankful for something like tears? It’s an easy answer as far as I’m concerned. For years my eyes never shed a tear. A friend could share a touching moment…nothing. A new Christian could stand before his church family…nothing. A family member could have a hurt…nothing. A death…if I worked at it I might could find one or two, but that was a chore. I was beginning to think I had a heart of stone. I admit, it disturbed me.
This was in such contrast to a younger me. As a child and even a young adult, you could look at me a certain way and I would cry. A sad movie…pass the tissue. A funeral…you didn’t want to sit by me. Someone with a hardship…you got it…the tears would flow.
I’m not exactly sure of the reason for my loss of the ability to cry. It’s possible the medication I was on had some bearing on this (which I have proudly weaned myself off after 20 years), but then I wondered if it were something deeper. For the longest time, I didn’t want to feel…not joy, not pain…not happy, not sad. I think I found comfort in the numbness. If I didn’t feel happiness, I didn’t have to worry about losing it. If I didn’t feel sadness, I didn’t have to worry about caring. If I didn’t feel pain, it meant I didn’t hurt, and if I didn’t feel joy, then I wouldn’t fear being robbed of it later. Reflecting back, I took the easy way out.
What caused the change? I would love to know the answer to that question, but I don’t have the slightest idea. I’m giving credit to the medication, or at least the lack of it, but for this I cannot be certain. It could also be the realization that the greatest gift of my life (my son) has been given his wings and its his time to fly. Or perhaps my body was just exhausted from holding all that emotion in for so long.
Today, I find comfort in my tears because they assure me that my heart is not made of stone. They remind me that I do love, I do care, and that I do feel.