I don’t know if I am alone here and I doubt men have this happen to them… but once in a while I get overwhelmed with the urge to cry big sloppy tears, the kind that stain your face and make your nose run a lot. Usually it seems the tears are an accumulation of sad things or frustrations I have carefully repressed, fooling myself that I had successfully dealt with an issue or issues.
This phenomena is what I am going to blame for tearing up at the movie “Guilt Trip”. It is a comedy with a little sappiness thrown in. I pulled it together before the lights came back on, so Aaron has yet to make fun of me for having the sniffles over Barbara Streisand and Seth Rogan.
So, what was it that got me so emotional?
The little children who, as one man said “gave the best high fives”, that won’t ever high five again.
(My eyes watered and my lip quivered listening to “Silent Night” on the car radio.)
The men and women that serve our country and don’t get to see their families. Not even during the holidays.
( My heart sank during “I’ll be home for Christmas” with the voices of the military wishing their loved ones peace.)
Kathy and Bernice, my chickens, who spontaneously perished over the New Year weekend.
(I held back, pretending to use the tough skin of someone else.)
And other things, which really, in the grand scheme are probably pretty frivolous: job searching while employed, finding time to exercise, maintaining pseudo organization in the house.
And so after 1 and a half comedic hours of banter between a mother and a son, my eyes welled again. Not yet the big sloppy tears, but I know they aren’t far off. And after they pass; a clean slate, a deep breath, a chance to start again.