Eight weeks ago Wednesday afternoon, my constant companion and friend for seventeen years, Faith, was gently removed from my lap. Since then, many, many tears have fallen.
Did you know that the chemical makeup of tears of sorrow or grief is quite different from tears of happiness or relief? And, that crying is as healthy for you physically as it is emotionally?
In her article The Health Benefits of Tears, Judith Orloff, M.D., shares “tears are a sign of courage, strength, and authenticity." Strangely, I don’t really feel courageous and brave with all of these tears streaming down my cheek. I actually feel the opposite: weak. vulnerable.
But I do love this bit:
Crying is also essential to resolve grief, when waves of tears periodically come over us after we experience a loss. Tears help us process the loss so we can keep living with open hearts. Otherwise, we are set up for depression if we suppress these potent feelings. When a friend apologized for curling up in the fatal position on my floor, weeping, depressed over a failing romance, I told her, “Your tears blessed my floor. There is nothing to apologize for.”
I find these words to be a relief and, actually, refreshing. Like, perhaps, I haven’t been in the wrong for being “too sensitive” all of my life.
One reason for these tears is the loss of the pure joy that Faith freely gave to me all of these years.
- Her purring. What sound creates more pure joy than a kitty’s purr?
- Her presence. She was never too far away.
- Her closeness. Curling up in bed to read with her right beside me.
- Her kitty kisses. Too early in the morning.
- Her warmth and softness. Nap times on the couch.
- Her beauty. And her captivating big green eyes.
Since May 22nd, I haven’t felt like curling up with a book. The last book I read was Rod Stewart’s autobiography back in April with Faith purring beside me; I thoroughly enjoyed that time together. I haven’t even sat on the couch since Faith was taken from my arms. Napping there would not be the same now. I desperately miss her joyous purr and regret that I didn’t record it and didn’t take more videos of her. (I thought I would have more time with her to do that.)
Those moments of joy can not be replaced. I hope, eventually, those memories will bring a smile rather than tears.
For now, I am trying to find joy elsewhere:
- Taking time to appreciate the flowers on my deck and how the purple petunias with white edges remind me of the colourful frilly skirts worn by square dancers.
- Going on photo wheels with Darrell.
- Listening to Rod Stewart’s newest CD. He is still my fav, even after reading his autobiography.
- Spending time talking with my loving and extremely patient Darrell over an iced mocha.
I am sure the list will slowly grow with time.
What brings you joy? How do you find joy again after such a loss? Please feel free to share in the comments below.If you enjoyed this post, consider buying me a cafe mocha. Thanks kindly.