There's no crying ... or is there?

I've read a number of threads in which the writer mentions crying. Tears of joy, tears of grief, tears of anger, tears for no reason at all often get mentioned here.

I just read Colton's double-whammy post where he lost his dog and his cat. I was reminded of Samson's trip to Rainbow Bridge earlier this year. I'm even reminded of what happened on Monday when my longtime manager at my current job worked his last day for the company.

About two and a half weeks ago, he came and told me that he'd put in his two-weeks notice and he was going to move to New Orleans. In an environment where turnover is high, he was the only manager I'd ever directly reported to at my company in over a year and a half. Even more than that, we'd become friends.

I told him about a situation that wasn't directly work-related, knowing I'd get support, even though it included a gentle rejoinder because I hadn't made the best decisions in that situation. I felt very comfortable talking to him and showing flashes of the parts of me I usually don't show at work.

Now, a manager who had earned our respect and our affection was moving on. As he started making his rounds to say goodbye, he hugged everyone from our team. When he walked down the hallway toward the door and his new life, I saw two women from our team literally crying. One of them actually had to leave her desk for a few minutes to compose herself.

I didn't cry, but I definitely felt a profound sense of loss. I mentioned that to one of the women a few minutes later. She told me something I didn't expect, which suggests that she's good at reading people, that I've become more prone to show emotion in my advancing age, or that she's learned to read me well. She told me, "I could tell you felt some kind of way" about my manager's departure. She also told me she could tell how I felt after he'd told me he was leaving.

Anyone who invests the time in getting to know me well knows I don't cry very often. I cringe at people who say that if you don't cry, you have no soul. When I was little, I was socialized to NOT cry because I spent so much time with my paternal grandparents. A few moments will cause me to get a tear here and there, but not very often.

I don't know where I ultimately want to go with this. I guess I wanted to get the moment my manager left off my chest. I wanted to talk about people who don't cry who feel emotions just as profoundly. I wanted to talk about moments that made you cry -- or want to -- if you haven't previously shared them.

 

Despite growing up in Redneck Alberta, I've never had huge problems with crying or those who do cry. I'm not really ashamed to admit it either. Not that I am or have been a never ending fountain.

When my sister committed suicide when I was 13, she was 15 (weird this is now twice in one day I've mentioned her on here) I ran out of tears. I didn't know how to react, I didn't know what else to do. I've been to a few other funerals for friends and family members since and not cried.

The other real prominent time that really sticks out to me is about six years ago, I was having my own mini breakdown where one thing piled on top of another, on top of another, on top of another -- it actually had its roots in my sister's death nine years previous. What put me over is when it became abundantly clear to me that my dad knew nothing about me outside of my name and job. Not because he forgot but because he hadn't taken the time or had cared to. It was at the moment when he was trying to talk me down that that reality dawned upon him as well. It was a very awkward and angry moment on my end.

I've also had a couple of moments where I have been absolutely overwhelmed by depression and loneliness and self loathing where I've just started crying while sitting alone in my near empty apartment and then afterwards strangely felt somewhat better. It doesn't happen often, but every few years it hits me seemingly out of nowhere.

I don't cry when I'm in pain, I swear when I am in pain.

 

I haven't cried in five years. The last came during a fight with a girlfriend. I broke down because I knew the relationship was doomed but I was too scared to end it. It lasted two more months before I gained that courage, but she always thought, and always will think, I cried because I loved her.

Crying isn't a reflex in sadness for me. When my father died, I didn't cry. When my grandparents died, I didn't cry. When my childhood dog died, I didn't cry. I cry because I'm emotionally drained, because there's no answer. I don't cry often. I'm a resolute, logical person who thrives on being in control. It's only when I lose it that I break down.

I admire men who cry. There's an earnestness to it that I can't handle. I don't emotionally attach myself to much of anything. I don't leave myself open, and I come across as cold, distant as a result. Men who cry never seem cold or distant. They also don't seem reliable. I'm very reliable. So I don't cry.

 

Only funeral I've cried at was my grandpa's when my uncle, who was sitting beside me, mentioned something about a fishing trip the three of us had taken earlier that year. It was then it hit me: I would never get to take any more fishing trips -- or do anything again -- with Pop.

And I cried in our van on the way to church for a dinner later that afternoon.

Then when my mom almost died a few years ago, I cried a ton. Cried at the hospital when one of my aunts came in the waiting room and bawled after I got my sisters -- who were 9 and 11 at the time -- to finally calm down and go to sleep. That was a rough night.

 

Funny but I'm not afraid to cry.

OTOH, I've lost a dad, a brother, and had various other tragedies in my family...but the only time I ever saw my mother cry was when our basset hound of 16 years had to be put down.

 

I'm a fucking pussy. I admit it. I cry. I don't give a rat salad either. Cried last month when my wife's grandpa died. I loved the guy. He was one of the first that really took me into the family, but the pain his death caused the queen was quite a bit.

Probably one of my biggest cries came a month after I graduated from college and moved six hours from home. Dad sent me a card with a long letter, saying how proud he was of me, being a man and making it on my own. All I could think was, "Dad, you did a helluva job."

OK, I gotta stop ... getting choked up ...

 

I've found it very hard to cry since my dad died. I've changed in a certain way in two years. I can't quite put my finger on it. I don't think I've become "bitchier" and not cynical either. It's almost like I've become impatient, and I've lost the ability to empathize.

Anyway, towards the end of his life (before he found out about his cancer) dad started going to all the football games I covered at the Carrier Dome. We had two state champions in that time, plus a bunch of district games, so he was there quite a bit.

The fall after he died, the team we covered was the first team to play that day. I love being at the Dome when it's empty with a ton of time to kill. I love to just sit there and take it all in. So we got there, set up all our stuff, and I was just looking around, watching the teams warm up. I wasn't even thinking about my dad, and I just happened to look over to where he sat -- same spot about 30 feet away from the press box. It just blew me away that he wasn't there. Last year he was there, now he would never be there again.

I tried my best to keep it together, but it was good that we were so early. It really shook me up.

Now I would be give anything to cry when I need to. Instead I just let it out during sad songs and cheesy movies. When I'm supposed to cry -- forget it. Everyone thinks I'm a huge drama queen but I'm really not. I just get all worked up about the little things and stay calm about the stuff that everyone else gets worked up over. I really wish I was different but I guess it's just not going to work out that way.