And then I cried

1:00 AM


Rose and I have been besties for a very long time. I don't remember a time in my life she wasn't there. She and I have weathered the ups and downs of life. Rose has been there to drag me to social stuff, while I have been there to be the voice of logic for Rose. When Tim asked me to describe my relationship with Rose, I chose an analogy that I knew he would understand.

"I am the Spock to Rose's Captain Kirk, only Rose is a much cuter and more moral captain."

Tim loved that. Rose is the adventurous, passionate one while I have often tried to pretend my feelings don't exist, or hide them from the world. I am the one that would rather read or write, while Rose has reminded me never to forget that people are more important.

Rose is the Anna to my Maria, she was the inspiration for Alditha, she listened to me read the earliest version of Brother's and Betrayal, and has excitedly listened as I told her about Dreams and Devotion.

Now, I'm helping her pack boxes for moving out of the house and all the way to Michigan. On a recent Sunday, as we worked together to pack boxes, I lost it. I left the room, ran to Mom and Dad's room and started sobbing. I haven't cried this hard since I was explaining to some close friends, probably almost a year ago, some things that had been weighing on my heart. I held tight to my Dad and cried hard.

"She can't move so far away."

"This guy can't be good enough."

"It hurts."

Those were a couple of things I said as I sobbed. Most of the time, I just held either my Mom or Dad and cried for about an hour. I was so mad at myself for doing it, too. Why couldn't I just be happy for Rose? I was being so selfish to think of me! If I wanted to be selfish, couldn't I just think about the fact I would have my own room for the first time in my life?

When I had finally cried myself out, through texts with friends and talks with Mom and Dad, I was reminded of a very powerful fact: tears can be healing. I needed to grieve what I was losing. As a friend of mine wisely pointed out, while Rose and I will always be friends, our relationship has altered and will never be the same again. It's okay to be sad that our time as best buddies living in the same room is coming to an end.

Monday morning, I woke up lighter and able to simply be happy for Rose. I needed to grieve so that I would be free to rejoice. I keep having to relearn the lessons that often my deepest emotions need to be expressed so that I can be free.

When was the last time that you cried tears that brought healing?

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5 comments

  1. Thanks for sharing your heart in this post, Sarah (and your other recent ones). I've experienced healing tears many times, including recently. Like you said, it is good to grieve what we've lost, even when the sadness is mixed with joy. :)

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    1. Thank you so much for stopping by, Mary. It is always good to know you are not alone.

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  2. Three weeks ago, we received a call from my uncle saying that my Memaw - my last living great-grandmother - had been called Home. Two days ago marked eight years since my Grammy's death - and Memaw was her mother. To be honest, I'd let Memaw go years ago - she's had really bad Alzheimer's since even before we lost Grammy. I hadn't expected her final loss to hit me so hard. Yet it did. It didn't help that they chose the same coffin for Memaw as they had for Grammy.

    After the Viewing, I realized that I was running from my emotion, so I sat myself down, and forced myself to pour that into a snippet of a story. By the end, I was sobbing and I actually cried myself to sleep.

    It wasn't exactly her loss that I mourned, but the realization that the era was over. My last great-grandmother. My last biological great-grandparent. (I do still have a step-great-grandfather.) Many of my treasured childhood memories were at Memaw's house, but those years are gone - have been gone for years now, and I didn't even notice them slipping away when it happened.

    Even though I'd let her go, I wasn't ready for her to go. I wasn't done with the era. And even though I'd accepted my Grammy's loss and moved on, that pain was suddenly dredged up, and I wanted nothing more than to give her one last hug, hear her voice one last time.

    I don't like addressing my emotion, especially my negative emotion. I don't like crying. But I had to make myself feel it, because until I did, it'd just fester under the surface, making me miserable. I had to face it head-on, and to do that, I had to cry.

    .......

    You know, I can't help but draw parallels between us, our situations.

    Between death and your sister's marriage.

    They're both moving on to the next stage of their lives - lives where we KNOW they're going to be happy. But they're going to be gone from us.

    I'll be praying for you and your sister. *hugs*

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    1. *Hugs* I will be praying for you. Parallels can be a powerful thing. I am glad my post could encourage you in some small way.

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  3. Aww, I totally get what you are going through right now! I am dreading the day my sister and bestie will get married . . . thankfully that's still a way off. But my brother is getting married this year, and it has already been rough. We are really close, all my siblings are, and the changes aren't easy. I am so happy for him, and his fiancee is super sweet, and I can't wait to call her "sister", but none of that makes it any easier. :'( Praying for you! <3

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