teary

I'm a little ashamed to admit that I've become a weepy, teary-eyed sap as I've gotten older (I hate to be able to tag that onto the end of any sentence...gotten older. It sounds so foreboding). When I was a child, I prided myself on the fact that I rarely cried, unless I was really sad about something or  induced into a fitful rage, at which point tears were an inevitable result of not being able to lash out in the way I wanted to. My momma was tough and didn't cry; I was tough and didn't cry. That didn't mean I wasn't still very sensitive. I was. I just didn't like to show it.

My best friend Jay would cry during a Hallmark commercial, a sappy chick flick, in church, or during a good song. And she always did it so gracefully. Her eyes were never puffy and her nose never turned red. Maybe her mascara smeared a little, but it somehow managed to make her look more radiant. Jay could shed a tear with beauty and grace; sophistication, even.

But not I. Which, since I never cried, meant it wasn't much of an issue. But nowadays, I get choked up all the time...during movies, plays (like last night when we were at A Christmas Carol at Ford's Theater), books, when singing particular songs (let me just add that it is really hard to sing and cry at the same time. It usually comes out as a very unattractive sob, just hopefully not on a high note), and yes, even occasionally during a sentimental commercial. But this is new territory for me, this letting my emotions actually reach the surface, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. If nothing else, it seems I need to buy some waterproof mascara.