Tears

When I was a teen, I cried when my first and second boy friends broke my heart by breaking up with me.

 By the time I reached college I learned to hide my feelings and control the tears. During this time, both sets of grandparents died. I did not shed a tear.

A few years later, my daddy had a heart attack and died. I did not cry that night at the Canyon hospital, nor on the couch at Mom and Dad's house where I stayed with my Mom that night. I did not shed a tear when the relatives gathered at our house. I did not cry when we buried my Daddy in the Canyon cemetery among the rocks and dried grass.

I shed my first tears for my Daddy sitting alone in Connie's living room after the service. Justin, who must have been around 6, came running through on his way to somewhere important. He turned around, came to where I sat and told me he was sorry. Then he rushed off as only a youngster can do.

The next few years I remember no tears. I know I lost a few pets.

The next major waterworks came when I decided to join a religious cult and move to Florida. I tried to give my two cats away, but no one wanted them. I cried hard as I left the animal shelter knowing they would be euthanized but before that they would be scared and wondering why I abandoned them. The guilt was tremendous.

Through the years, my heart hardened. No more tears. The guilt hung around and I learned to castigate myself for all my shortcomings and sins.

After I lost my job through layoff, I met a person who became a caring friend online. We spent hours talking. Because of him, the thoughts of being worthless and used up were negligible. After several months, I knew his death was imminent. One of his friends confirmed his death for me after I insisted he check on my friend. I cried many tears for the loss. Then I got out the cement and built another wall of protection around my heart. No more, I said.

This year, I lost Connie, my friend of 53 years. I sat in the hospital room with her whole immediate family when the doctor said her organs were failing. The tears refused to breach the wall and release the pain in my heart. She always told me I was stronger than I knew. Was I strong or had my heart frozen over?

The wall finally crumbled for the most unlikely reason. A couple of my friends went on vacation. While they were in paradise one of their beloved pets died. At first the tears made tiny cracks in my hardened heart, but finally they washed away all the cement and all the pain that was hidden in my heart. I cried for Koda, I cried for Connie, I cried for Paul and Daddy.

I cried for me and all the guilt I have felt over the years. I cried for the what ifs. The pain remains, but I vow not to build another wall around my heart. Life is too short to skip even the pain.