Crying as Therapy

My family are not criers; I am not a crier. Once when I was at work a person upset me so much that when I ran into a good, kind colleague a few minutes later I actually began crying and then apologized “for losing my composure”. I did the same thing when I was in the hospital two years ago when I suddenly lost my Scandinavia phlegm and began crying because of more negative news about my condition and then I apologized to the nurse who was so kindly holding my hand. She condoled with me, telling me that I had every right to cry.

I am not a crier about myself or my plight. I will, however, sob unashamedly over a movie, even a commercial can bring tears to my eyes but that isn’t real “crying”, in my view.

Last night my mother came into my room and hugged me and held my hand and choked out her words to me because I had to lie down in order for her to give me my blood thinner shot. I have been in so much pain the last two weeks whenever I stand or walk for only a minute or so and it is becoming almost too much to bear. She said she wished she could do something to help me. Then she began to cry.

“Oh Mummy, don’t cry. I am alright. I will be alright. Don’t cry Mummy, you do everything for me. You are the best mother in the world.” I condoled with her but I know she went back in her room and cried some more.

We are not a family of criers but in our hearts, we cry just like everyone else.