Today I had a conversation with someone on the topic of crying. More specifically, the topic of men crying. The conversation didn't revolve around whether it was ok for men to cry, but rather, when it has happened in our lives. I know, you must be thinking, "Brother Bill, you are so manly, how were you even a part of this conversation?"
Well, how this conversation got started isn't really important, but I will say that the topic intrigued me. As the conversation progressed, I began to think about my dad and if I ever saw him cry. Now my father was a part of the greatest generation and these guys were the definition of tough. He was a World War II Veteran and he was my hero. So, as I sat there today, I could only remember twice in my life that I ever saw him cry. The first time was the night that his mother died. I vividly remember him kneeling down and holding her lifeless body while he wept. It was a moment forever etched into my memory. That night, I saw a side of my father that I had never witnessed before. Almost a decade later, I witnessed the fatherly waterworks again, however, the setting and reason couldn't have been more antithetical. The occasion was my oldest brothers birthday party and I decided it would be a great idea to roast my brother Bill Kirby style. With each jab and barb my father began to laugh hysterically until the tears flowed down his face. At one point, he asked for an intermission so that he could dry his face and give his belly a rest from all of the belly laughing that was taking place. It was a night of laughs and love that I will remember forever.
Based on those memories of my father, I have come to believe that there is a sacredness in tears. With the ability to cry comes power not weakness. Watching my father cry spoke to my soul more than the voices of ten thousand angels. In his emotion and tears, I witnessed overwhelming grief and unbridled happiness. Both wonderful lessons about how to live my life.
Over the years, I've cried plenty. I remember crying when my father passed away. My dad was my friend, mentor and hero. I not only cried but I bawled like a baby and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Not a day goes by that I don't miss him. I also shed mega tears on the day that my mom died. I was holding her when she breathed her last breath on planet earth. As I kissed her one last time and told her that I loved her, the tears began to stream down my face as a testimony of the love of a boy to his mother. While grief is never easy; I've learned that the tears we cry are sometimes the price of loving so deeply. I think you know what I'm talking about...
Looking back, I've cried a lot over the years. I tend to wear my emotions on my sleeve and I don't see anything wrong with that. When it comes to crying, I cry when I'm happy and I cry when I'm sad and I really don't care who sees it. My family has seen me cry plenty of times. Truth be told, they were the genesis of some of my best tearful episodes and I don't mean that in a bad way. Sometimes families need to cry together and sometimes children need to see dad so moved with emotion that he cries sometimes too.
Well, now that I've solidified myself as one of the great all-time cry babies, let's just remember that Chuck Norris's tears cure cancer. Too bad he's never cried.
Be Well.
Bill
