Tears fall from our eyes and cover our face, announcing to all that our emotions can no longer be contained. Then there are the silent tears, the ones that fall from our heart and cover our soul, the most painful tears imaginable. These are the tears from a pain so unbearable it cannot surface, lest it consume all that is you.
Common tears, the ones triggered by emotions, are the response to a significant emotional event. Tears arrive for a multitude of reasons from pure joy, relief, and sorrow born from heartbreaking grief and unutterable disappointment. They pour down our cheeks and many times prompt a healing response of support from those around us.
The silent, unseen tears that fall from our hearts to cover our souls contain the glue that cements the tiny, fragile pieces we have broken into caused by an overwhelming pain. You may see this when a parent loses a beloved child and is utterly bereft; they are unable to imagine that a cherished part of their future has been inexplicably removed from their life. It may be in war, where loss is a daily occurrence, but the bond of brotherhood is asstrong as a natural family. When you lose brothers in arms, sometimes it's impossible to cry. Days, months or even years later, the flood of tears hits like a torrential gale storm. Other times the tears never come, and it festers like an ugly disease. There are times when tears simply and slowly drip out a little at a time, because they are buried deep within the heart. It takes time for them to slowly leak out to cover the soul, acting as the balm that keeps us from falling apart.
This kind of pain is impossible to feel without the same measure of love being a part of the cause. Love is a special kind of thing, a word we use to whisper and acknowledge the joy we find in another. From our children to a lover, this loss sears our heart. A deep and authentic love lies at the root of this kind of pain.
Another facet of this kind of pain is the total disintegration of an illusion we were sure we could believe in. Our children growing up and growing old, or the love we were sure of is suddenly, enigmatically cut short. These are the losses that are indescribably agonizing, often causing us to retreat into a place of protection, deep within ourselves. Is it possible to recover?
If you are beginning to recover, the people around you may be wondering why you haven't cried much lately. You see the looks and hear the whispers. You understand that each time you make it through the night and wake up to a new day, you are one step beyond what seemed possible. Every time you walk through another normal daily event, you are another step closer. In this instance, time is the great healer, slowly passing and allowing you to see that you have indeed continued to live through what seemed impossible. Recovery; it may be something that at first seems impossible. Then one day you wake up and notice the sound of birds singing in that brief moment before you remember the tragic loss that has occurred. As more time passes and you notice a change in the way the sky looks. You were accustomed to seeing the gray, and suddenly you may realize that it is sunny. Even more time passes and you are surprised when something on television suddenly makes you laugh out loud. You realize it has been years since that has happened. How odd that you never noticed when it stopped? Recovery is slow, but possible. As you hold onto your faith, as well as believing that you will make it through this time, new information will come and events will happen that will help you to understand. All of these are a part of recovery.
When enough time passes you begin to realize that you are stronger for having survived this kind of pain. Much like a cherished, priceless vase that was lovingly glued back together, the glue from the tears of your heart has strengthened all that you are and will become. You made it through the rainy season of a broken heart. You are a survivor and winner!
John T. Catrett, III
Scissortail ( no longer ONHL) Hospice
306 North Main Street, Suite E
Bristow, OK 74010
918.352.3080
john.catrett3@gmail.com