headtones: The Crier Club

Now, I know that there are some of you who never cry. Me? I am a self-identified member of the Crier Club. I cry for a whole host of reasons, the most popular of which is the angry cry, to which my husband, parents, friends, and co-workers can all attest. If ever I am unable to put into words my anger and frustration, I cry. Sometimes this is acceptable; whereas, other times, the angry cry has rightfully been deemed inappropriate.

The other frequent cry for me is the sad cry. There are numerous and varied situations that bring on the sad cry. There are times when I cry because there is a commercial that tugs at my heart strings, a trait I have inherited from my mother. Sometimes I cry because I read the newspaper and the world’s tribulations seem so insurmountable that I cannot help but shed a tear for our collective troubles. Then there are the more personal situations, like listening to one of my girlfriends going through a heart-wrenching break-up or another dear friend losing her long-time pet that can and will bring on the sad cry. And then there is the sympathetic sad cry, brought on when a twelve year old client hugs his parent good-bye after being committed to a Youth Detention Center until his twenty-first birthday. Of course, you can’t forget about the sad cry that accompanies the loss of a loved one – a cry with which I am lucky to have limited experience.

There are so many depressing, terrifying, and frustrating things in life to cry about, so I am thankful to say that in addition to the angry cry and the sad cry, there is also the happy cry. Though it is the only cry I’ve had today, it is actually the one that I deal with least frequently. Happy cries are generally reserved for the life changers:
1. Proposals
2. Weddings
3. Babies

I did not cry at my own proposal, though I did well-up (in addition to jump up and down and yell a little like a crazy person . . . on the corner of Liberty and Third Street in Downtown Winston-Salem . . . during lunch hour) when my friend, Stacey, called to say her boyfriend (now husband) proposed.

When friends asked whether I was going to cry at my own wedding, I scoffed at the thought. Who cries at a wedding? It is happy for goodness sakes! No tears necessary! Just to be safe, I decided not to walk down the isle to Canon in D, as just hearing that song normally triggers the tears. Instead, I went with a classical number picked by my Grandma Gondring. But then Dad and I get to the church and I can’t even help it. As the tears stream down my face, I silently thank Catherine for insisting I purchase waterproof mascara.

As the picture above suggests, my happy cry was about a baby. I received a text delivering the news that my very pregnant sister-in-law, Liz, is set to have labor induced tomorrow morning. This event is one for which she and her husband have anticipated for far longer than her forty weeks of pregnancy. Even though I’ve known that Parker will be here any day for over a week, getting this news brought both tears to my eyes and a smile to my lips, reminding me that there are many miraculous, thrilling, and joyful things to cry about, too.