WHEN YOU GET AMBUSHED BY TEARS...

I know I'm not the only one. 
Grief. Tears. More grief. More tears. Less grief. Still, more tears. 

Have you ever thought about physical pain and grief? Little ones cry when they feel physical pain. They cry when they are scared. They cry when they are lonely. As they get older, they may cry when someone else gets hurt. Or, they may not ever reach that level of empathy to cry because they feel so deeply the pain of others. It's all part of growing up. Kind of a cycle, really. I've noticed that those approaching their twilight years do a great deal of crying as well. 

Crying--for whatever reason--brings a physical relief. A deep relaxation that is not concomitant with the source of the pain (emotional or physical). But when the source of tears is continuing bereavement that relaxation is like a smack in the face. So unwelcome!

Grief. Tears. Grief. 

I was six months in--six long months of crying every day when I finally figured out that the source of my continuing sore throat was the salinity of tears dropping down the back of my throat. Because I had a physical reason to stop crying, it was a little easier. Every time I would cry, I remembered that I could stop the sore throat (and, of course, in my mind I had escalated it to the beginnings of throat cancer because I'm dramatic like that) if I stopped the tears. So...I stopped. I actually stopped crying every day. I made a conscious decision to immediately do something else--something happy--whenever the tears started. 

Tears, unfortunately, ambush you when you least expect them. And unless you're lucky like me and have a sore throat, or sinus infection, or husky-deep voice from the ravages of crying every single day for months and months...tears may very well go on ambushing you and sucking you right back into that form of grief. Crying is a self-fulfilling prophecy much akin to the chicken and egg question. Which came first? The tears or the grief? (The grief.) Which comes first right now, right in this minute? Tears or grief? As the impetus for bereavement--tears are a  friend that you can count on, but the death of your loved one is a horrible, solid truth. Tears become the grief. Grief becomes the tears. 

It's nobody's concern how you express your loss: if that means crying every day, so be it.