My wife and I have unspoken conversations, some days. We each wonder why the other is so easily moved to tears. We each wonder why the other wilts and cries and finds pain in what we hear about someone else's pain, the pain of someone we've never met, never even heard about. Maybe that is good. Maybe the fact that we mourn for people we don't know is a sign of goodness. I don't know. Maybe it is a sign that we aren't suited for this very, very hard world. I'm not an old man, but one day I hope to be. And if I become that old man, I will be an old man who cries at the drop of a hat. It's embarrassing on the one hand, simply hard to explain on the other. Which is it? Is it just strange, or is it an indication of a unique weakness or a unique emotional link to a hard, hard world?
A good blogger friend wonders the same thing. Why can we not control the tears and the pain, particularly when it is not our pain, not our hardship that we encounter? I wonder, too. I wonder why a 53-year-old guy sometimes cannot be stoic the way 53-year-old guys are supposed to be. It's embarrassing to melt into a sobbing mass when a 13-year-old would be able to deal with it on a more adult level.
I want to have a conversation with someone who can understand the point of the conversation...someone who is equally uncomfortable with the uninvited tears and the uninvited emotion. We can share what it's like to be full-blown adults who cannot help but wither into tears at the most inopportune times. Someone must have dealt with this and conquered it. Geezers are not supposed to be simpering wimps. I have that on good authority.
I recognize, of course, that I am just wierd in some sense...I am a full-blown adult who has wierd cry-baby impulses. Such is life. I have to deal with it, or find a cure. No one has stepped forward with a cure, so I have to try to make this character flaw into a potential strength....but I could use your help.
Off topic: I had a reply tonight from someone to whom I had written a message after learning of his father's death. Damn, that is so hard. Fathers and mothers are powerful people, powerful forces in our lives. Their loss is painful. Another reason for me to weep. Maybe my tears are OK, after all.
3 comments:
I'm not much help here, John. I almost never cry, don't even have to stifle it. I may be the reverse - I just don't feel stuff the way normal humans do, or at least don't respond as expected.
I don't think there's much wrong with crying when you hear about something sad. I can cry just hearing someone tell me that their dog died. I guess it could be embarrassing in certain company, but I also think society is changing enough that most people don't think less of a person for crying in public. The "not crying" thing, especially for men, seems to be mostly a cultural thing anyhow -- the old British "keep a stiff upper lip" way of thinking. I also think that being emotional and crying doesn't necessarily correlate to being strong in a bad situation. For example, much as I might cry at the drop of a hat, from experience, I've discovered that I'm very strong when I find myself in situations that would send most people running for cover. Maybe you just need to figure out if there's really anything wrong with crying.
I re-read my post and decided I made myself seem like someone who cries endlessly on a daily basis...well I don't. It's just that I am moved by some things that shouldn't cause me to tear up. Phil, I think you're the one who's more normal than I. Bev, I don't actually blather, the way I made it sound; but I do have to stifle tearing up sometimes at the most inopportune times. I suppose there's nothing intrinsically wrong with it, just wish I had more stoic reserve.
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