I’m not crying, you’re crying

For the love of all things holy, why can’t I stop crying? Why can’t I just sit down, have a good cry and move on. The tears come whenever they want. Sometimes, as I’m getting ready for work in the morning, I have to change my tear-soaked shirt before I can actually leave the house. Most of the time they start rolling down my face as I’m driving. I can’t quite figure out what it is about being in my car that makes the tears come so easily. It happens every morning on my way to work. Not because I’m listening to a sad song, or see a beautiful sunrise, or a memory triggers it. Joe is on my mind 24/7. I am constantly thinking about him.

And then, of course, with the tears comes the questions. Inevitably someone will say “did something happen this morning?”, or “are you okay?”. I know their intentions are good, and most of the time my response is that nothing happened and I’m just having a bad morning. But sometimes I wish I could just wear a t-shirt that reads “my husband died, that’s what’s wrong”.

Crying was always reserved for when I was really pissed off. There is absolutely no room for it in the workplace, and if it did happen, look out. That meant I was probably on the warpath. Back in 2017 Joe was diagnosed with colon cancer that later spread to his liver. My tears during his cancer battle were limited to in the shower or in the car (ah ha! now I get the car thing). And he didn’t cry about it either. We were stoic and strong, positive and hopeful. Genuinely. He was my Superman and cancer wasn’t going to take him down, so it never felt like a death sentence to us, and it wasn’t. He DID beat it!

Now I am struggling with crying at the drop of a hat, crying at the most inappropriate times (see previous post), and not being able to stop the biggest, most humongous tears I have ever seen. I miss my Joe so much. I miss everything about him. I’d give anything to hug him again. He gave the very best hugs.

These tears though, these tears are flowing from the thousands of cracks in my heart. I know they will slow down eventually, but those cracks will always be there.

And that’s okay.

“There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” – Leonard Cohen

Are you finding it hard to control your emotions during your grief?