Why can't I have a romantic cry once in awhile? You know, like in the movies or in books, where a girl can wade on a sandy shore while she cries, or lie on a lofty tree branch, or stroll a grassy meadow, surrounded by sweet-smelling wildflowers?
for escaping to the shade of the apple trees in our "back 40" on a sunny
spring day, apple blossoms showering their fragrant petals over my face
to wipe away my tears . . .
. . . or whatever.
no. When I have a chance to cry at all, it's usually at the most
inopportune times, when some straw or another has broken the camel's
back, and there's no time or opportunity to choose a location. While
washing dishes, while sorting laundry, while teaching my son algebra or sentence diagramming. It's never "right." It's never
dramatic in a good way.
I did have a perfectly romantic
cry once in my life. And it wasn't just romantic in the sense of
imaginative or impractical, but it involved a boy-girl romance-romance!
"I love you," said he.
then I cried. It was like we were the only two people in the world,
and it was the first time I cried in front of him. It wasn't that I
didn't love him. I did very much. But, for some weird reason, I
couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. I had misused that word
"love" too many times. I knew Kevin was the real thing, and that scared
me senseless for awhile! I was afraid of true love, afraid I would
fail. I didn't know how to deal with true love. I knew I had to treat
it differently than the game-playing and attempts to control others that
I had been guilty of before.
I loved him, but I just couldn't bring myself to say so.
never forget how he swung down from the bench, got down on one knee so
he could see me face-to-face, and kindly asked, "What's wrong?" in the
quietest, most tender of voices. He took my hand and just waited
patiently for me to finish crying (like he has so many times since). If
he was unsettled by my tears, he never showed it. He brushed my hair
from my eyes a time or two and whispered a compassionate encouragement
every now and then.
I cried mainly because I didn't
know what was wrong with me. Why could I not verbalize what was in my
heart to the only one those words had ever truly applied? I had easily
said them before when I only thought they meant something. Now they really did, and I couldn't utter them.
wonder how he felt that night. I haven't asked him if he even
remembers it. I think of it every few years or so, but I never remember
to ask him that question. I'll bet I will now, though. :)
Obviously, the story doesn't end there.
few days later, he called me right before being wheeled to the health
center because of a dangerously high fever and severe abdominal pain.
It turned out he had food poisoning and would be fine, but I didn't know
that at the time. I met him there as he arrived and was shocked at the
green tint to his face. I hadn't realized people could really look
green! I so wanted to say, "I love you!" as the nurse pushed his
wheelchair toward the mysterious, unseen back rooms. I wondered if he
was going to die without knowing how I felt.
nurse wouldn't let me back to see him, so I wrote a note, which she
agreed to take to him. I wrote all kinds of things about how I hoped he
would feel better quickly and that I would be praying for him. Then,
as if an afterthought, on the bottom of the paper I wrote, "By the way, I
love you." We laugh about that all these years later (that was 26
So, yeah, it was kind of a back-handed
way, but it was a start! After that, I had no trouble saying those
words, except, over the next several years of our engagement and new
marriage, when I would withhold those words out of anger, to "make a
Now, I still become angry sometimes, but I
can't ever withhold those words. In fact, though I say them to him
several times every day, I make an extra effort to make sure I
say them when I'm angry. I've learned that love certainly doesn't end
because of a disagreement. The only thing that causes love to end is
when one or both people allow it to. Period.
anyway, I should be grateful I've had a romantic cry in my lifetime:
romantic setting, romantic circumstances, romantic outcome. I'll
remember that the next time I'm blubbering as I'm cleaning the toilet or
folding laundry, and wishing I could escape to the apple trees. ;)
My parents named me Laurel, after the mountain laurel flower, but I've always gone by Laurie. I feel like I've spent my whole life trying to be what other people would find acceptable, and it hasn't been until recent years that I've thought more about how GOD would like me to be. He wants my heart to be seeking after HIM and not the approval of man. So, this is where I will be working out my thoughts, removing the masks (even my nickname!), being real, and making a FREAK of myself! ha ha Any other Jesus Freaks or just freaks in general or even non-freaky people are welcome to read, discuss, encourage, or be encouraged. Welcome to my brain . . . and my heart. :)