Ugly and Essential

Last Friday {everything} hit the fan. I was sitting at the office, trying to focus on the work that had waiting patiently for my return from the east and found that I was incapable of focus in any degree. My thoughts began to whirl and all of the sudden breathing was my focus as I realized if I stopped that I would be found by some co-worker hours later and cause my family yet another weekend of unprepared eulogies. I needed to run, not go out with CA. I am grateful for friend that had double shows on Friday and has easily accessible hide-a-keys to his empty home.

As I walked in that door, into the safety and solitude of those walls, I broke down as I realized the finality {in a very non-eternal perspective moment} of those funerals. I sobbed as I saw in my mind my uncle {the man that stood tall without emotional outbursts through all of the other funerals} shedding tears, my Grandfather giving me the two year indication, and every other moment that I had pushed aside subconsciously in order to keep moving. It was an ugly cry.

But when you are crying like that, the ugly cry with not cute sniffles but snorts and moments of slight hyperventilation, you just have to let it all out. Trying to stop prematurely stifles the emotions that are finally able to surface after days of neglect. Trying to hide or lessen this ugly sight simply makes it uglier. Knowing that, I sobbed and sobbed. After some time {the length is not important} I stood up, threw some cold water on my face, watched White Christmas ~ Bing and I have a connection that I appreciate ~ read the first 50 pages of the classically comforting Pride and Prejudice, and fell asleep. When I awoke, 12 hours later {without sleep aid mind you}, I felt just fine. I was ready to greet the world.

So when Cam, my delightful friends son, began this ugly cry {although can it really be ugly when coming from an adorable 1 year old?} I stopped my initial attempt to stifle his wails when we got into the car. I gave him the things that are comforting, binkie and blanket, smiled and let him have it out as I drove up Legacy Highway yesterday evening. After a bit he gave into the solution, sleep. When we arrived at the house I opened the car door and just looked at him for a moment, understanding the feeling of sleep after a good ugly cry. He was content. He woke up a few minutes later, a short nap was all it took, and we played on the slides and in the grass like champs ~ life was good.

Where am I going with this? Ugly cries … they are ugly, yes. They are inevitable, yes. They are essential, yes. Go ahead, let it out. You’ll sleep better and wake up to a new day.