Anna, your exploration of how tears show up in different times and stages of your grieving adds texture and nuance to our individual and collective experience of crying. Your account of your grief for your father reminds me of my own. The emotions were so complex, conflicting and overwhelming, that I did not shed tears during his last few months, when I was his main caregiver. I think adrenaline and cortisol definitely flooded my system and drove me to handle the critical tasks at hand. I also became deeply depressed. But my eyes were dry. I felt numb. It wasn't until I went back home and received a phone call about his death, that I burst out in unbridled tears. And then tears would come and go in the next few years. I think your article raises a very important point about not judging a person's level of sadness and grief based on the amount of tears they shed. There are simply too many elements at play, and crying is truly an experience unique to each and every one of us.
It's so helpful to hear your questions, Anna. I feel similarly to you. Questioning myself.
I know my pain and endurance were stretched further and further in the dark days of caregiving, aka numbed. Perhaps this stamina or endurance recalibrates the threshold for tears. Perhaps the tears are not behind a dam, but the stress, cortisol, etc. are more potently concentrated in the smaller amount of tears when they're shed. I think I prefer this thought to being on edge about a dam bursting!
The more we share, the more I see how unique and individual our tears and crying are, especially when they are associated with grief.
On the flip side, I think about recent opportunities to sit in nature and listen to music that felt more poignant and wondrous than before. Are we more sensitised to revel in the joy-filled moment now because we are more potently charged?
No right or wrong. Hoping we experience wonder and joyful tears and lose any worries of when and how we 'release' tears.
Also, one thing I'm aware of is that the more I moved (Walk-run-walked), the less 'keyed up' I felt, so perhaps movement enables a similar release for the body as tears.
Yes I love this reframe! I agree that the sensitivity to joy and gratitude is amplified by our challenging caregiver experiences. And yes working out - especially lifting heavy weights 💪🏽 has become such an important release for me.
You mentioned movement. Yes! You know what, sometimes I just dance out my emotions, moving them through and releasing them from my body. I make expansive movements (like free-form modern dance) and it just feels so good.
Thank you for sharing your experiences - and I’m nodding along as I read about how you sometimes felt like you hadn’t released all your tears for your dad’s death. I was similar with my Mom. I cried when she was diagnosed with cancer, I cried when we moved her into hospice… but when she died there were less tears that I expected.
I waited - wondering when they would flow. They finally did - years later and at a completely unexpected time. I found myself crying for days - the deep visceral sobs that leave you completely and utterly depleted.
I’m working on an article about it to add to this wonderful collaboration (if I can find the spoons to finish).
That cry was almost a decade ago - and I’ve cried a lot less since. Like you I often wonder where those tears go and why they’re hiding away!
It was after the death of someone else who was close to me - and in that moment all I wanted was my Mom. So I grieved for both people at the same time… and there were a LOT of tears.
Can I ask how you put in those pretty squiggly lines (unsure what else to call them) to break up sections? I found it really visually appealing but I’m terrible with formatting. Wondering if it’s a setting within substack or a graphic you chose and inserted.
I wanted something unique so I made my own simple design in Canva with the same colors as my logo and saved as an image. I keep it saved on my desktop and then I insert it in the drafts :)
Crying is definitely not a display of grieving, I agree! I did not cry at all during my dad's funeral, but behind the scene I had my fair shared. Post funeral, there were also no more tears for a long time before I did the writing protocol to process the whole thing. I believe the tears may still come anytime in the future or not. As much as I find crying good for the soul, it is also ok not to cry. Thank you for sharing your story!
Anna, your exploration of how tears show up in different times and stages of your grieving adds texture and nuance to our individual and collective experience of crying. Your account of your grief for your father reminds me of my own. The emotions were so complex, conflicting and overwhelming, that I did not shed tears during his last few months, when I was his main caregiver. I think adrenaline and cortisol definitely flooded my system and drove me to handle the critical tasks at hand. I also became deeply depressed. But my eyes were dry. I felt numb. It wasn't until I went back home and received a phone call about his death, that I burst out in unbridled tears. And then tears would come and go in the next few years. I think your article raises a very important point about not judging a person's level of sadness and grief based on the amount of tears they shed. There are simply too many elements at play, and crying is truly an experience unique to each and every one of us.
It's so helpful to hear your questions, Anna. I feel similarly to you. Questioning myself.
I know my pain and endurance were stretched further and further in the dark days of caregiving, aka numbed. Perhaps this stamina or endurance recalibrates the threshold for tears. Perhaps the tears are not behind a dam, but the stress, cortisol, etc. are more potently concentrated in the smaller amount of tears when they're shed. I think I prefer this thought to being on edge about a dam bursting!
The more we share, the more I see how unique and individual our tears and crying are, especially when they are associated with grief.
On the flip side, I think about recent opportunities to sit in nature and listen to music that felt more poignant and wondrous than before. Are we more sensitised to revel in the joy-filled moment now because we are more potently charged?
No right or wrong. Hoping we experience wonder and joyful tears and lose any worries of when and how we 'release' tears.
Also, one thing I'm aware of is that the more I moved (Walk-run-walked), the less 'keyed up' I felt, so perhaps movement enables a similar release for the body as tears.
Yes I love this reframe! I agree that the sensitivity to joy and gratitude is amplified by our challenging caregiver experiences. And yes working out - especially lifting heavy weights 💪🏽 has become such an important release for me.
Beautiful and deep reflections, Victoria!
You mentioned movement. Yes! You know what, sometimes I just dance out my emotions, moving them through and releasing them from my body. I make expansive movements (like free-form modern dance) and it just feels so good.
💃🏻🎶💃🏻
Thank you for sharing your experiences - and I’m nodding along as I read about how you sometimes felt like you hadn’t released all your tears for your dad’s death. I was similar with my Mom. I cried when she was diagnosed with cancer, I cried when we moved her into hospice… but when she died there were less tears that I expected.
I waited - wondering when they would flow. They finally did - years later and at a completely unexpected time. I found myself crying for days - the deep visceral sobs that leave you completely and utterly depleted.
I’m working on an article about it to add to this wonderful collaboration (if I can find the spoons to finish).
That cry was almost a decade ago - and I’ve cried a lot less since. Like you I often wonder where those tears go and why they’re hiding away!
Thank you for sharing, that's so interesting that the tears came out in full force years later. I look forward to reading your piece!
It was after the death of someone else who was close to me - and in that moment all I wanted was my Mom. So I grieved for both people at the same time… and there were a LOT of tears.
Can I ask how you put in those pretty squiggly lines (unsure what else to call them) to break up sections? I found it really visually appealing but I’m terrible with formatting. Wondering if it’s a setting within substack or a graphic you chose and inserted.
I wanted something unique so I made my own simple design in Canva with the same colors as my logo and saved as an image. I keep it saved on my desktop and then I insert it in the drafts :)
Canva! Of course! I always forget about it lol. I’m clearly not a graphics person. It’s very unique and looked beautiful in your article!
Anna, thank you for sharing your experiences with crying--and not crying--and your questions.
It is truly a gift to read about your journey (which shares a few similarities to mine) and see the unique way you are navigating this season of life.
All best to you.
Crying is definitely not a display of grieving, I agree! I did not cry at all during my dad's funeral, but behind the scene I had my fair shared. Post funeral, there were also no more tears for a long time before I did the writing protocol to process the whole thing. I believe the tears may still come anytime in the future or not. As much as I find crying good for the soul, it is also ok not to cry. Thank you for sharing your story!
Thank you, Rachel!
Love to you and the fam
Such a beautiful reflection, Anna. And such intriguing questions for us to ask ourselves. And gawd yes I need to start lifting weights.
Anna - what a deeply insightful piece. I am living anticipatory grief through my Substack and agree that it is exquisitely painful.
Extraordinary! Thank you for this. Sending you big big hugs. Let’s hug IRL soon.