Fountain of Tears

Some people say the English language is one of the most difficult languages to learn and master. I can believe that. Just think about homophones....words that sound the same, but are spelled differently, and have different meanings. Here are a few...right and write, fair and fare, not and knot. 

Then there are homographs....words that look the same (identical spelling), but are pronounced differently and have different meanings. The one example that came to mind today are the words tear and tear. (I cried a tear. That will tear my heart to shreds.) I’m sure it’s not hard for you to guess why these two words are on the forefront of my brain as I write tonight. 

Yes, the tears fell this morning. They fell hard. I’m not disappointed in myself. Let’s face it....I have a lot to cry about. Aside from the obvious...like my husband having pancreatic cancer with a lousy prognosis...there’s the part about seeing him suffer. One of the hardest things is seeing him in pain, but I can’t let that get in the way of helping him. I have to take a deep breath and stand up a little taller so I can think clearly, assess the situation, and find a way to get him some relief, give him some comfort. Sometimes, on the inside, I’m screaming and kicking and throwing things, but on the outside, I somehow manage to display a calm, gentle, confident, and supportive demeanor. Talk about crazy making....and exhausting.

When it all just becomes too much, I finally have to go off by myself and let the tears fall. This morning, I went outside in the backyard, and sat by the fountain (the fountain Anthony made plans for years ago...the fountain he had wanted  so badly for so long, but never got...the fountain I encouraged him to buy with his birthday money the summer before we were married...the fountain we picked out together and dug the trench for by ourselves...the fountain that has accompanied so many outdoor meals and parties and quiet evenings and late night talks...yes, that fountain!) and I let my tears fall with the gentle flow of the water. I felt closer to Anthony there. I’m not used to crying alone...my regular "crying place" is wrapped up tight in Anthony’s arms, my head pressed so close to his chest I can hear his heart beating...so next to the fountain feels about as close to him as I can get right now. I bet I’ve cried enough tears to fill that fountain many times over. 

So, as my tears fell, I started thinking about the word tear...as in, “I cried a tear.” And, then in my special ADD (attention deficit disorder) sort of way...and those who know me really well know how this special part of my brain works...I started thinking about tear vs. tear. I started wondering how I could cry my tears without letting the pain tear my heart to shreds. I considered allowing my tears, like the water in the fountain, to soothe me instead of tear me apart. So, I let them fall. I started feeling better as the tears poured out. Like the water in the fountain, I let them flow over and over in abundance and took comfort in the simple release. I let them wash some of the pain away.

I’ve cried a lot in my life...about a lot of things. Maybe because I’m the kind of person who feels deeply connected with life and everything in it. That can be very scary...feeling so connected. With Anthony, I’ve always had a safe place to cry. In his arms, I’ve always felt protected from the pain that threathens to tear the heart to shreds when the tears begin to fall uncontrollably.  Since he’s been sick, I’ve cried alone too many times to count. I’ve been scared and lonely and I’ve hated every minute of it. But, after this morning, out by the fountain, I’m a little less afraid. Somehow, the fountain...that very special fountain...has shown me that my tears can help cleanse some of the hurt that tears away at the very core of my being because my sweet Anthony is sick.

Thank God for miracles...and fountains.