Tears. Crying. Sobbing.

Some people can’t stand the sight of tears. They feel uncomfortable when someone in their midst starts to cry.

They’ll hand you tissues and tell you that you don’t need to cry. Even demand that you stop.  Then they’ll offer platitudes to “comfort” you.

“He’s in a better place.”

“She doesn’t want you to be sad.”

“Crying won’t change things.”

Sometimes, guilt is used.

“Everyone’s looking at you.”

“Stop acting like a baby.”

“Real men don’t cry.”

“C’mon, it’s been months.”

To me, tears are cathartic. I’ve had a lot to cry about the past two years: the death of my husband and brother and several friends.

I’ve hidden my tears, and shown a seemingly competent, albeit subdued front.

Time does, indeed, mute the pain. Notice I said mute, not erase. Nothing erases the pain. It’s there and it will be there for the rest of my life, I am sure. As I start to move on, and to participate more fully in my life, behind the smiles and the laughter is a deep well of loss and grief.

So, if tears should flow, I will let them cleanse me and help me to cope. And then, once again, I will be ready to face a new day—alone.

Because, the truth is, it’s okay to cry.