Tear Dryer

This summer has been somehow indescribable, I have been at a loss for words. I think I have been waiting for sunnier times to relate, being that I have worked hard lately to change my life. The sun had poked into places where it was missing for a while this year. I thought I may have reached some type of painless place, but, no.

Tears avoided do not dissolve. They cannot be positived away, or refused entry into one’s life. This is something I know but occasionally disregard, because pain hurts. I know this story well but it is part of the dance. I stay busy, but at some point, I am debilitated until I can cry.

One of the times I had a reading with a medium (there have been many, please process this information in the way that is best for you) there was this message from Susanna: “I have the best Mom. She always made sure I looked pretty and she always made me smile.” Thank you, my beautiful Susanna, for appreciating my efforts and knowing that they encompassed the deepest parts of my love.

I would have done anything to make you smile. I would do anything to make your brother smile too, and your father, but things get different here on earth when you get older. Life inevitably becomes supremely disappointing. You learn that you must do many things which feel contrary to what your soul wants in order to survive. You lose people you love and see them suffer unfairly. You observe behavior in others that baffles you and makes you feel like you belong on a different planet. You trudge along, longing for escape sometimes, and all you can do is sob and commiserate with your friends. That last part is the part that saves you. I cannot make anyone smile always, but I can be there.

Maybe some people are born into this world to help others avoid tears or mask them. Some people might not even acknowledge sadness much. I think I see now that I am here to witness tears. I am here to accept and validate. If you feel ready, maybe I can help clean some tears from your new dress. But always, losing Susanna will have cemented my capability to defend your sadness. I will never shame or disregard anyone’s grief, or my own.

All of that said, I am spending this summer not in my usual idle and languorous fashion (I miss that), but I am working on the next phase of my career by student teaching. Every morning, I drag my tearful self onto the Q train, facing the shore and the Cyclone and the Wonder Wheel and greeting another day of life without Susanna. I still wholeheartedly refuse to give up on the future. I will weather, I will survive.