What would we do if we couldn’t cry?
I am coming up to the fifth anniversary of my soulmate’s passing and I still cry fairly often…not the terrible racking tears of the early days but gentler and more accepting of what now is rather than what might have been, gratefulness for what I had rather than bitterness for what might have been. I also still cry “anniversary tears” for my mum and dad and my baby daughter who I lost more years ago than I care to remember, for beloved pets, for people who touched my heart and shaped my future in spite of myself.
We live in a society that expects life to be more like a fairy tale than the gritty reality it is…we all somehow expect to “live happily ever after” and death is a taboo subject which we seldom discuss…it is no wonder that so many of us struggle to come to terms with losing part of ourselves when society does not accept that grief is part of living and needs space and empathy rather than embarrassed misunderstanding. Most importantly, each of us needs to realise that none of us are promised a tomorrow and we should live each day one at a time.
So, I think that our tears are part of the “healing” process…just as everyone else who grieves the passing of a loved one, whatever their role in their life, each of us cries for different reasons at different times…each tear is part of our inbuilt coping mechanism and part of who we are. Perhaps we do cry more for ourselves and our lost hopes than for those who have left us… for we have to believe that they truly are in a better place and not “missing out” on this life… but ultimately we cry because we were blessed to have loved and been loved in return.
Take care everyone…my Barry passed away in our garden in Brittany and I leave you with the words of the doctor who attended: “Bon Courage mon ami” and my hope that your days ahead will be calmer. X