A Time For Everything

I'm feeling blah today. No reason why I should really. It's a beautiful day. The little heat wave we had broke and now it's true Texas spring weather. Maybe I'm blah because I'd rather be at home with my windows open and being productive there.

I've got some deadlines looming, things that really need doing, but I just can't seem to get my back side in gear. I won't have much of a choice, so it'll get done in the next few days.

I watched three episodes of Grey's Anatomy last night. It's an okay show, I'm not crazy enamored of it like I am Harry Potter, but it's something to watch. In the last ep, one of the character's (George, a surgical intern) dad died. The dad was diagnosed with esophageal cancer. And it was so wide-spread, there was nothing the surgeons could do. The dad never woke up from surgery and was being kept alive by the machines. T.R. Knight who portrays George was fantastic. He's probably my favorite character. But the whole storyline was well played by all.

When you go through things in your own life, then similar circumstances on TV and in movies & books become so much more emotional.

Case in point, my own dad died in November of 2009--he didn't have cancer or a surgery, but he became "unresponsive" at some point--it wasn't a coma or being unconscious, just unresponsive.... Anyway, after an MRI we were told he was gone and it was just the machines keeping him alive. We (my step-mother and brothers and sisters and I) had to decide if and when to pull life support. We did and quickly. He died about six hours later with his wife and five kids gathered around his bedside.

All that to say, while watching, I was sucked in. I knew how that felt. I cried with George and his family. Probably harder than when my dad actually died because I couldn't cry in front of my family. I was the strong one--the oldest sister (by twelve years) that kept the rest of the family going during that week we waited, hoping. I don't share my emotions much. I should, but I don't. And it's much easier, it's safer, for me to cry over a TV show than to truly break down in public (or in private really) over a private grief. It helps me to purge those emotions, let them out.

I did break down once during that time with my dad, but it was short-lived. Everyone wanted to comfort me and there really was just no comfort to be had then. So I had to shake it off and be strong again.

Well, this has become a bit maudlin...but it's cathartic. And I'm feeling better than when I started this post, surprisingly.

are cathartic.

I just read a post from another blog that made me tear up enough for the moisture to hover on the edge of my lower lids...

Her topic? Her youngest child (of six) is graduating--as is she to a new phase of life.

I have a child graduating, too, although she's not done with school. But it was more the thought of my baby, my only son being grown and ready to graduate. I can't imagine that time, although it's only five short years away.

Is it something about mothers and sons that gets me more than the thought of the graduating in and of itself. I had/have no moments of wistful remembrances of my daughters. I'm eager for them to grow up and out - yes, the oldest more than the younger - but the thought doesn't move me to tears as it does when I consider my son. Maybe it's more because he's my baby than because he's my only son, but who's to say?

As for tears, any good excuse to shed a tear or two or a hundred is welcome. Whether from a touching or sad moment, or a good belly laugh because something tickled my funny bone, makes no difference.