Is it an age thing, a hormone thing, a mental health thing, a life thing. Tears catch me, betray my attempts to remain or regain strength.
On Wednesday my big Sis and I, as an unplanned thing, shot off into town to get ahead with our festive doings and as we turned the corner heading towards the shopping center I could hear the familiar strains floating across the air and I could do nothing to stop the tears from falling, trying hard not to let my voice catch, but it was futile. The Salvation Army Band always puts me in mind of my Dad, he enjoyed listening to them and would purposefully come with Mum and me into town when we did our seasons gatherings. On Wednesday they were playing Silent Night and that will forever bring our beloved pooch Ruben to my mind and when we lost him, it was December 25th 2010, he was in the animal hospital and in the evening ‘that’ decision had to be taken, ‘that’ phone call occured. We knew roughly what time he would be put to sleep and at that moment, in the programme we were watching they started singing that carol and it seemed to be the last straw for me and my sister to hold our distress [my tears are rolling as I type].
But it can be the sentiment of an advert, or the ‘happy ever after’ of a film, the touching moment in a book, or even some memory recalled as a tune comes on air – the ducts begin to swell and threaten to deposit their contents down my cheeks.
There are times when I am in bed and restless, sleep evading me and I will feel the sensation bubble up and I will cry, often my mind is in grief over something that has gone or changed.
I never used to be this way, i was the non-cryer, often angry or fight in spirit.
I guess it is just how things have changed.