Joining The Ranks

I am not one of those women who cry. It pisses me off to cry. That should tell you a little something about how I perceive myself. But contrary to what you might think, I am not emotionally crippled, callous, or cold. Quite the opposite is true, actually.

I am not tough as nails, though I do like that I am sometimes perceived that way.

The truth is, that I am a big, fat, emotional sap.

And the reason I don't let myself cry, is that I am acutely aware of the fact that if I begin, I may not stop. And I do not cry prettily. Oh no. I cry with great big donkey sobs and streams of snot and eyes that swell up after just a few moments.

So I just don't let myself start.

But lately, it seems, I have lost my ability to choke them back, turn them off... to SUCK IT UP, as it were.

Some instances that have turned me into a quivering pile of teary goo recently:

• Watching Bing Crosby's Christmas special as he tells his daughter the story of the little matchgirl. Jesus.



• Watching Little House on the Prairie Christmas Special "Christmas at Plum Creek". You know, where Laura sells her horse to Nellie Olsen (and we all know how that ends up, don't we??) to buy Ma a stove, but Pa made her a saddle? And then Ma finds out Laura sold her horse, and she tries to stop her. "She LOVES that horse!" Ma tells Pa. And Pa replies, "Caroline, she loves YOU more." Fer the Love of Mike.



• Listening to John Berry sing "O Holy Night". Sniffle.



• Ditto for Bing and David Bowie singing "Little Drummer Boy". Snerk.

• Overhearing a boy about the age of Diminutive One in Target the other day saying to his mother. "Oh, Mom, look. Wouldn't Granny have loved this? Too bad we can't mail stuff to heaven." Snivel.
  
  
• Watching Husband's Boss's wife tear up at the Christmas party, when her husband made a speech thanking her for staying by his side through good times and bad. Quiver, quiver, sigh.



• Having a co-worker and friend tell me "You know, Husband is head over heels for you. It's so obvious how much he loves you. I would give anything to have that." Good Grief there's no stopping this one!! Sob, sob, sniffle sob.



• Seeing a friend share an long hidden truth with close friends, sure they would turn away, only to find that they loved her just the same, if not more. Heavens to Betsy.

Perhaps it is the homesickness that is nearly crippling this time of year. Perhaps it is finding that the Christmas spirit, which so often eludes me, is still alive in me somewhere. Perhaps it is just that this time of year really makes me realize how fantastically lucky I am.

((Shrug)). Whichever the case, it seems that for the time being at least, I am...one of those women who cries.

S'not so bad.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go sob into a pot of Chicken Dumpling soup. DAMN you "A Very Brady Christmas".