Waterworks

It’s time for a good cry!

Who’s in?

The rule: cry as long as you like, and for any reason: sadness, fear, loneliness, boredom, nostalgia, frustration, anger, happiness, disappointment. No judgement, tears are tears!

Informal Survey:

1. If you have kids, do you cry in front of them?

2. If you have a pets, do they offer their own brand of comfort?

3. Who’s the best celebrity crier, Tammy Faye Bakker, or Ricky Schroeder in “The Champ” ?

Please reflect on a memorable encounter with a crying person. Sample memory: When I was ten, I knew a lady who wore sunglasses inside the house—at night—to hide that she’d been crying. Standing at the kitchen counter, she’d pack lunches for the next day, and nonchalantly answer our questions or yell “Stop running in the house!” It was all pretty normal except that 1) she was wearing sunglasses, and 2) we were supposed to pretend we didn’t notice she was wearing sunglasses.

One terrible place to cry is at work. The best thing to do is to use the hall bathroom on another floor of the building and snivel in a stall. If that’s not an option, tell co-workers you’re going out to grab a coffee, then hit a restaurant with a multi-stall bathroom. (Starbucks is out; there’s usually just one can and you’ll feel pressured to wrap up.) The good news is that people are pretty chill in public bathrooms. Restrooms are like mini nasty utopias of live-and-let-live. Patrons will barely take note of you at all. If there’s a Coconut Girl in there using a breast pump, everyone will be too busy empathizing-pitying her to dwell on your sobs.  In case you’re really cracking plaster and even the Medela can’t drown you out, try flushing for audio camouflage. But don’t waste too much water being embarrassed. Instead, take a moment to collect yourself. Have a look at the floor. Notice whether it’s tile or terrazzo. If you’re lucky, you might spy the Cadillac of floor drains: a brass JOSAM.  JOSAM spelled backwards is MASOJ, which sounds like “massage.”  The thought of this may improve or worsen your crying, depending on how frigging long it’s been since you had one.

Kids, like adults, have many reasons for crying. Except they’re way better at executing. If there were a Cry-Off, any kid would beat any adult (so I guess I just answered #3 above). I admire the emotional authenticity of children. When they’re sad, they cry (or fake-cry, when they want something). For the National Championship though, any baby would beat any kid. And for the World Title, a colicky newborn would not only dust everyone, but he’d also skip the awards ceremony so he could get back to crying.

I recently realized that even while kids are still young, a shift happens, and they become self-conscious about showing sadness. Specifically, they learn to suppress it. Families have tense days from time to time, and one day last week, it was our turn. Everyone was tired and cross.  I saw one of my children go into the bathroom. A strange feeling crept up my shoulders as she closed the door. There was no flush, no sound of washing hands, just quiet. When she came out five minutes later, she was blinking more than usual, and her nose was red. “You okay?”, I asked. “Uh-huh,” she said in an upbeat tone, looking the other way and speeding past me.

I saw my sunglasses on the counter, and cried.