Beauty in Weeping

After we lost our son, we received several cards, flowers, and sweet gifts. All were much appreciated. But one of the best gifts I got was a single turquoise tissue box with white polka dots. My friend handed it to me as she entered my home. No words were needed. The simple gesture spoke volumes. Basically, she was giving me permission to cry. In fact, tears weren't just permitted, they were expected. I can't tell you how comforting it was to be given the freedom to just let it all out with a friend who was okay with whatever happened.

When I was 13, my grandma Mary died. She was the only grandparent I had, and I was her namesake. To say that the loss was huge was an understatement. However, I didn't get a box of Kleenex that day. Instead, our stern father came into the family room and announced, "Grandma died, you're mom's very upset, so I don't want to hear any of you  kids crying." Not one of his best parenting moments. 

Sometimes tears make other people uncomfortable, or outright mad. We feel so helpless. We don't know what to do. It's like, "Oh God, here she goes again. How do I make it stop?" But here's the thing: if we're going to really heal from loss, tears are necessary. They're healthy. A much needed release. If God didn't give us the capacity to let out our frustration and pain and grief, we'd eventually implode. 

Unfortunately, I think after my grandma died, I pretty much just stuffed my feelings. I sat stone faced at her funeral. My sister was blubbering; I remember watching her and feeling super guilty. "What's wrong with me?" I wondered. Truth is, I was trying to soldier on as if nothing happened. But the grief never went away. Two years ago, I scanned all of my grandma's photos, along with my mom's, and made a Shutterfly scrapbook for myself and my siblings. It was a daunting project. Believe me, as I scanned those photos, I blubbered like a baby. And it had been over 40 years since Grandma Mary had been gone! I remember meeting my friend, Mary, for coffee one Saturday after I'd been scanning. I just started  sniffling and said, "I miss my grandma!" 

It's like I'd stored away all the grief in some hidden place in my heart, and 40 years later, out it came like a flood. Thankfully, I'm not stuffing my grief any more. I'm so grateful for friends who hand me tissue boxes and just let me emote. According to Medical News Today, there are many benefits to crying, including stress relief. "Research has found that in addition to being self-soothing, shedding emotional tears releases oxytocin and endorphins (the feel good hormones). So there you go. If it's on the internet, it must be true, right? 

Right around the corner from my house sits a weeping willow tree overlooking a quiet pond. I always stop to admire it when I'm out on a walk. Apparently, weeping willows get their name because raindrops resemble tears when they fall on the drooping branches. In literature, they are often associated with sadness and grief, especially in Shakespeare. 

They may appear sad, but I think they're absolutely stunning. Sharing our tears can be a beautiful thing, too. There is a passage in the Bible that says, "Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning" (Psalm 30:5). I think the reason the joy comes is because the pillowcase collected all the tears. The release was good for us. We wake up with those feel-good hormones. And best of all, we let some of the sadness out, instead of stuffing it. 

So, there you go, my friends. If you've suffered a loss, whether it's losing a person you love, or a beloved pet, or your health, or a hope/dream that hasn't come to fruition, or a relationship that's gone sour, or a job, financial security, whatever it is, get the Kleenex box out. It's okay. I promise.