The Flight of the Tears

The worst advise my mother gave me
Was to not cry
Because once you start
You won’t be able to stop
She would say
I understand that deeply now
As the grandmother I am
For me
(And the gene pool that is my maternal ancestry)
The dysautonomia creates
An over reaction
A threshold for the
POTS potentiometer
Hits and spills over
Into a storm
Of sorts
We didn’t have
Words for it
But Mom knew
Because she felt
The aftermath
Just as I do
Just as her mother did
Just as my amazing
Offspring do
And that
Breaks my heart
Most of all
But even though
We would prefer to avoid
The dark feels
And in truth
There is some merit
to mitigating ones like
Anger…
The Tears come
With a cleanse
Whose healing
Powers should
Not be dismissed
Would I prefer
To look stoic and stylish
In front of people?
Most definitely
But tears touch
The heart
In ways that
May not be seen
They soften not only
Our own rough edges
But they
Plant a tiny
Seed in those
That witness our
Journey
No one leaves
Unchanged
And while we may
Wish that we
Could pick and choose
The time of our
Healing waters
We should learn
To celebrate our
Tears
At least after the fact
Thank you
For letting me
Release that energy
And trust
In the flow of
The eternal river
For I will
Never cross the stream
If I do not
Let my feet touch
The water
With deep gratitude
I bless these tears