Tears ...

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.”

 ~ Washington Irving

"I will grieve you in the light my dearest Bill."  This is found in my journal many times.  It is written as a reminder to myself to be part of the world of the living and to grieve openly as a reminder that Bill had a positive influence on the world.  My openness is also offered as a gift to the bereaved so to say you are okay and to those who support us - thank you!

For the past six and a half months, I have focused my energy on grieving my loss and more recently I have been purposeful and deliberate on my spiritual ego. 

Thinking back on the day of the funeral, I remember needing to be practical about everything - after all, this is my Bill, my English bloke who's life we were celebrating. He was a quiet and reserved individual.  Although the tears came, it was not what I would call open grieving.  This was done in the privacy of my bedroom and was witnessed by only my closest Earth Angels.  I also remember thinking of my mother's comment to us when my father died, "You had best behave and not go on and on and make a scene".  What a loss of an opportunity to show my three young men, that it is okay to cry!  It is okay to lament the loss of such an important person.  I also remember asking everyone, including our sons, to leave the salon so that I might have a private moment with my husband before leaving the first night of his showing.  How society has changed us.  I felt like there was no room to openly expose my grief, my "real" tears.  This has had a profound effect on my grieving - more than I would really care to admit.

Following the burial, someone said to me, "You are so strong.  I can't get over how put together you are and this is something I would not have expected from you."  She further qualified that she had not expected this of me because she knew how much Bill meant to me.  I guess there will never be a true picture in this person's mind (or others who made a similar comment) of the lamenting wife.  The one who, at times, could do nothing more than sit in the middle of her bed, hugging her pillow and rocking herself back and forth reminding herself to breathe!  Our culture has really forgotten the importance of grieving openly, has forgotten how it is important for the bereaved to model grief for those who will one day be bereaved.  How many times have we heard and continue to hear "big boys don't cry" or "your husband/wife/mother/father would not want to see you sad, so buckle up".  This only serves to prolong the time before you can embrace your grief and by doing so, begin to heal.

This sense of public acceptability has shaped me in unconscious ways.  To some degree, it has prevented me in the past, to grieve deeply when my father passed away, when my childhood friend of 40 years died in a car accident, when my kindred spirit in all that is about working with pregnant women died of cancer.  I always felt compelled to avoid my grief rather than fully embracing it and experiencing it.  I will grieve you in the sunlight.  This would have been an afterthought for I was conditioned to avoid being embarrassed in public as well as avoiding the pain as I did at Bill's funeral and for the days after.  I will grieve you in the light Bill.  It is in reflection over the last few weeks, that I have been able to be true to myself and to my sons and now to you the readers. My tears will heal; they are wonderful healers.

Tears release emotional stress; biochemically, tears of grief release chemicals that have built up during emotional stress.  These tears have a different chemical composition than other kinds of tears. Grief tears release physiological, psychological and spiritual toxicity. 

To my wonderful sons, and indeed to all of you who will not cry, for your own sake and because I love you, shed your tears with confidence and abandonment.

They are God’s gift to humanity to process the hurt of a painful world.  I claim this promise God makes, that through my tears, I will one day be okay.