A couple of days ago, I was tempted by one of those Facebook confession postings. You know the type, where you input information relative to you and post it on your timeline so that others will learn more about you, but also be inspired to do the same on their timeline.
Sort of a chain letter for Facebook fans.
It started innocent enough –
Names you go by: Bobbie, Bob, Aunt Bob
Beer or Wine: Coffee
But the next point for input was ‘When’s the last time you cried?’
Now that’s a bit tricky. You see, I don’t truly view myself as much of a crier. Though I feel things deeply, the tears I shed are pretty private and I am not sure that either (a) they would be perceived as such, or (b) the fact that my answer isn’t ‘yesterday’ would lead anyone to believe that I have no feelings.
That I would care about either of those last items is an entirely separate matter, and one worth pursuing at another writing.
However, it got me to thinking about the tears I do shed.
You see, I can’t start down my list of reasons to be sad without bumping into reasons for thankfulness and gratitude. I can’t think about how much I miss my daddy without thinking of all the wonderful moments we shared. One gets in the way of the other in a way I am not sure most would understand.
I can shed tears of gratitude, but not for my own personal loss because my loss is far outbalanced by my gain.
And such as it with most everything I might grieve. My tears aren’t of sorrow, and may not even be seen as tears of joy.
They are instead tears of having been found.
Yes, that’s it….. And the answer, ‘all the time’.
. . .
cleave not to December
the reminder of spring
~ a sparrow returned
to the nest
with faded remembrance
of faraway sighs
the color of snow
grieve not the leaving
but the coming around
tears of reflection
are falling around
~ far from the living
. . .