Cry Me a River

I was sitting peacefully at my desk writing some letters. I put on some meditation music and settled in. I wondered something but I couldn’t quite jog my memory about it so I got on my phone and started perusing LinkedIn for some clues into what my mind was looking for…that’s when I stumbled upon a post by a mother who lost her four year old son to cancer. She recounted her last moments with him, holding him and singing to him, and before I could even finish the story, my eyes started gushing a river of tears. I was slumped over my desk heaving and attempting to dry my eyes. It was like the floodgates had been opened and I couldn’t hold back the water from rushing out of me. 

I haven’t cried in, well, I lost track of how many days. But I’ve always told Matt, never hold it in, let it out so the pain doesn’t torment your body. So I cried, and cried, and cried. I cried about cancer, I cried about food, I cried about being able to still hug my children, I cried about work, I cried about my hair, I cried about so many things, and I realized I needed it so badly. 

Don’t hold in that cry, for fear of embarrassment, and don’t tell yourself you don’t really need it, because you do, trust me.