I should know this by now. I don’t know why I haven’t clued into this from the get-go. It happens often enough. I get this constricted feeling in my throat, and, silly me - I think maybe I’m getting COVID or something. Or maybe my thyroid is acting up. And then, often in a matter of moments, or some uncomfortable amount of time later, I’m crying. I’m definitely crying. And I realize: “oh, it was that throat feeling that always happens when a cry is coming on”.
This time it was brought on by the memory of a conversation I had a couple of days ago with a young man at the print shop. He was personable and kind (and reminded me of my own son) and I found myself sending up a quick prayer asking to keep this young man (that I don’t even know) safe and sound. Weird, right?
Well, everything is weird now, since I lost my son.
Maybe I’m not supposed to know ahead of time what the throat feeling is. I consider myself pretty self-aware, so maybe this knowledge is hiding itself from me on purpose. Maybe if I knew it then I would try to stop the cry.
The cry is important. It’s healing. It’s almost always an ugly cry.
And I make sounds too sometimes, like moaning or... I don’t know what you would call it. I think they call it keening, but try saying that to someone who doesn’t know…(wacko)…
And even though it’s seriously ugly, I do feel better afterwards. So I think that classifies it as a beautiful cry.
But this throat feeling/cry thing always surprises me. As if I would or could ever think that my times of crying are over. My times of crying will never be over. (Probably not the occasional screaming in the car either.) I loved (and still love) him too much for my crying to ever end - but I guess the times in between will stretch out further. That’s what they tell me, the people who’ve gone before me in this. That’s what they tell me.
But I must warn you: don’t ask me what’s wrong if your throat starts to feel tight. I might say you could be getting a cold. That’s how much I know about it.
Thank God that He knows.
Supposedly (and I 100% believe it), He collects every tear in a bottle.
Let the tears roll my sister. Let ‘em roll.
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