Some days there are tears
Sitting in my living room, a simple foodie show on the television, a little girl sings to a stranger, and suddenly, there are tears. She is sweetness and innocence, her smile sincere and without guile. So, the tears...there is no reason this should loosen them from me. Yet I know the reasons well. In the safety of my cozy home, no immediate worries, I cry. It happens more often these days. Just beneath the layer of ten years of resiliency, still so thin, Grief waits for me. This morning, there is no reason for crying, so Grief knows I am an easy target. Yesterday, I was ready for its arrival, fended off attack with yard work and laughter. This morning, after a restless night of little sleep and a two a.m. walk in the full moon brightness in my backyard, my guard is down. The girl's smile is an arrow delivered through the heart of my sadness, my tears the release of loss and sadness and longing for what has been lost. Some days there are tears. Some days the tears last an impo