Wondering about my Wanderings

Bottled up tears

One of the thing that affected me most in my back East pilgrimage was the issue of bottling up my tears. Everybody seemed to put me in the position of being the strong one. From the time I started I was introduced to situations where I could not/would not cry. I arrived at the airport and they told me to take the subway to meet them and then they were not at the station to meet me for the longest time and they were no more than fifty feet away playing spoons on a picnic table at the Aquarium in Boston.

I was hustled over to mom and she seemed to have a painted on clownish grin. I recalled my other extended time with her when Dad died. She told me over and over to be the strong one for her. I was on the verge of tears several times and then felt shut down. I gave her permission to tear up and then stifled my own hurt. I believe that is the reason our family is on the edge. I watched my other siblings in action telling her not to cry, as if that was going to make her feel better.

Bottled up tears are a dangerous thing. Is there anyone out there that would like mine?