The first tears of Saturday morning came right at the middle of the National Anthem. It was the All City Dive Meet, which my youngest child was a participant. The young singer of the Anthem had me with her sweet, innocent country twang. I don’t even think it was the words as much as it was her voice that brought tears to my eyes.
Within the hour my second round of tears brushed my eyes softly when my son took his second round of dives for the competition. It wasn’t his diving. It was my friend sitting next to me, rubbing up against my shoulder leaning over and saying,” He is not even my son and I’m crying.” I looked at her tear filled eyes. My son and this friend have always had a special bond. She is having major surgery this Monday morning as I type this and the combination of little kids standing on their own at the edge of the diving board, knowing the battle my friend is fighting against cancer, knowing her big heart, remembering how much my son loves her, all of it, started round two of tears.
Round three wasn’t when my son received his medal it was just before, when I looked over and saw him linked arm in arm with his buddies as they cheered each other on receiving their ribbons.
I am a crier. I embrace it. I don’t hide it. I consider it a gift.
The next round was just after 1 PM. My mother and I were wedding guests. The wedding couple attend our church and have been together for twenty years. They demonstrate love with their big giving hearts to everyone they encounter. I don’t know many couples who are as loving as they are, to each other and to those they meet. So round three started with the music and the two of them walking down the aisle together. But it wasn’t the music. It wasn’t the fact that I cry at every wedding I attend. It wasn’t their love being recognized by the state of Washington as they said, I DO, not as two women in love, but as two people who already walk the path of true commitment and love.
It was all of the above. It was the voices singing, the piano playing, the love on the attendants faces, (all sisters to the brides), it was the filled boat with friends and family of the beautiful couple, the ninety year old mother of one of the brides saying a blessing, it was the poetry, the sun coming out at the Kiss of Peace, it was learning that that is where H and P met, 20 years ago, in church, during the Kiss of Peace. It was the colors in the air, the words in the wind, the love in everyone’s hearts.
Tears are energy. Tears are Holy Spirit. And I was feeling Spirit that afternoon. God was touching me all day. That whole Saturday. Round six and seven came singing Happy Together by the Turtles as the newly wedded couple walked back down the aisle. Round eight came during one of the love filled toasts. Nine was dancing to The Pointer Sisters with my 81 year old mother.
Tears are expressions of God. Big Love wrapped up in a small salty tear.
I have lost count of how many times my eyes filled up that day. But it was a good thing. I needed the soft touch of the Holy Spirit to be present in the rest of my day as I learned during the ceremony my husband was with his mother in the hospital.
The Holy Spirit is always with us. Even if you don’t believe in Her or Him. She is there. He shows up and never leaves. But it is when we are open to the Almighty Power and Love of God that are eyes fill up. If you are a crier that is. And if you are not a crier you express your Divinity within in your own God given beautiful way.
Us criers don’t want you to feel bad for us, hand us a tissue or feel awkward in our presence. This is just what we do. Our eyes fill up when we feel and there is nothing we can do to stop it.
It isn’t anything to be ashamed of, to hide, to mock, to condemn. It is a release needing to move through us. You are the vessel of Love Energy spilling forth, be it through tears, a smile, a gentle word, a tight embrace. Your own unique God Given expression of love..
To you criers out there, I say wear your tears proudly. Take off your sunglasses, let the snot come pouring out. Be it round one or round two for the day, the week, the month, it doesn’t matter. It’s just love ready to jump out of your skin and you are the lucky vessel holder of the salty expression.
by J.G. McGlothern