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A Crying Song
So, I burst into tears last week. It was pretty weird. Because bursting into tears is not something I do very often, at least not as an adult, and never quite like this. And no, it didn’t have anything to do with the virus or distancing or any other worry. All of those things surely merit tears to some degree, but not from me. At least not yet. This wasn’t like that.
It happened while listening to a song, which isn’t really that strange, right? Crying over music is something that happens to people all the time. But I always thought it was because the song meant something special, something particular to the crying person. Like, “this was the song my mother used to sing when I was a child…” something like that. And sure, I’ve misted-up over things a lot more random, too. The Budweiser Super Bowl ad with the Clydesdales who befriend the puppy? Of course. Obviously, right?
I wasn’t just getting ‘misty.’ I was having what my grandmother would have called “an episode.” My face scrunched and contorted as I fought for control. My chest quaked with those weird hiccups that happen when you are suddenly, embarrassingly, trying to hold your breath so you don’t cry out nonsense, like that sound Superman made when Lois Lane died and the only word he could say was that noise and the only thing he could do was to emotionally override the laws of Krypton and fly so fast that time rolled backward. Tears…
