Learning to Cry

teardropAfter I had the “icky discussion” with the doctor, I take my Dad home and I tell him we will do all we can to help him feel better. I wrestle with the dichotomy of treating a man with dementia, which will never improve with how to manage through cancer that has made the parts of his life he was enjoying painful. Within a short span of time, he went from slurring to not eating, drinking or even trying to talk.

The past few days have rendered me numb. My husband helped me recognize that my go-to emotion is the lack of any emotion. I turn into a robot and move through my day like a zombie. I have so many questions, of which most are meaningless to ask now. I need to accept, recognize and address my grief. I find myself crying in bouts now.

At church yesterday, our minister happened to speak about lamenting. She did a lesson with the children and asked them about how they express frustration, sadness and anger and they agreed that “crying” was the most popular choice. Somehow, we have learned that crying is an inappropriate response and I know that I learned to quash it from my range of emotions.

While I thought crying was a weakness, I am finding that it is helping me comprehend and shed the sadness and grief as well as my anger and frustration. Dehydrated.