Pat Andrus, MS
A Comforting Voice
Wonder of the tears will ever
stop? They steadily fall, unpredictably and unexpectedly. Like spring
floods, these human raindrops pool into streams then seemingly flow
into rivers. Like spring showers, they pop up - beat us down for
a time - then just as suddenly, dry up.
Often inconvenient and unwanted, these signs of mourning, sadness
and pain also signify caring, love, joy and even relief. At times,
we clearly understand their meaning in our day. Other times, nothing
is clear. Everything is jumbled, confusing and meaningless.
Perhaps we just cry for no acknowledgeable reason. Is that so
bad? After all, weāve suffered a loss. Perhaps the death of a person
or the death of dreams, hopes and plans leaves us feeling hopeless
and powerless. Maybe we pity ourselves. Maybe weāre frustrated and
powerless right now.
We know of others who havenāt cried. This may make us angry, worried
or even jealous. Does it mean they donāt care, or didnāt care as
much as we? Does it mean we cared too much, that we are too soft
and sentimental? There are no simple answers to why one of us cries
and others donāt.
We remind ourselves tears are not the only signs of grieving.
There are so many others. Humans are all different. Our closest
friends and relatives will grieve in their own ways, with their
own time frames, rhythms and patterns. Just as we grieve uniquely,
so will they.
Others may tell us to stop crying, as though we can command nature
to change course. How burdensome this is. We must, and will, cry
as long as we need to cry, as often as we feel the dampness of moisture,
as many raindrops as our body produces. Not to cry when our very
nature demands release is to deny our humanness.
What we, and those around us, may not know is the healing physical
nature of our tears. Our body produces tears for biological reasons.
Chemically, the composition of tears of pain differ from tears of
laughter and joy. Tears help wash out negative chemicals building
up when our body experiences pain or stress. Tears cleanse.
How many tears does it take? Why, just as many as are needed.
Just remembering thereās a physical as well as emotional benefit
to crying may help us accept our unique pattern of crying - or not
crying.
Nowhere does it say a person must cry to be healed. Or that we
must cry in front of others. Some sob, others wail and keen. Some
remain silent, tears flowing inside. Some select the time and place
where they will release the flood. Others find themselves incapable
of controlling the tide.
Many have wanted to cry and just felt they couldnāt open the ducts.
They might substitute a healthy scream for the effort. Screaming
can release the emotions blocking the tears, suppressing the buds
of healing from surfacing.
So can journaling, or writing about our grief journey. Sitting
quietly, allowing ourselves to focus, relaxing into our pain may
stimulate the tears. But, if it doesnāt, perhaps we simply arenāt
ready to cry. Be assured, humans cry. And, like grief ebbs and flows,
so will our need to cry.
And, what if we suddenly find ourselves enjoying something, actually
laughing until tears flow again? Shocked to think we might be forgetting
our pain, forgetting our loved one and moving forward, we may suck
our breath inward, gasp our tears back, feel guilt and remorse instead
of gladness. Is this the way it is to be forever? How long before
we allow ourselves to anticipate good things even while succumbing
to periods of grief and longing? The answer seems repetitive...
as long as we need.
Life is full of sorrow, from birth to death. Life is also full
of wonder and joy. We experience so much in this world. Tears are
small miracles of life, for tears of joy and tears of pain both
heal.
This spring we will watch bulbs blossom, trees turn green and
grass peek through. Perhaps hidden in our grief, almost without
our acknowledgment or our awareness, we will sense our own growth,
too. We will celebrate our humanness by honoring our need to cry
or not to cry. We will laugh when we can, cry if we feel it, and
allow others to do what they find healing, too.
Spring is about deluges of raindrops, sunny days pushing past
huge gray clouds, impatiently waiting for the weather to get better.
So too is grief. Out of great pain and sorrow comes learnings, possibilities
and growth. Maybe even a deeper knowledge of eternal spring.
