What makes me cry:

Love so strong that it holds through all things brings me to tears. I think that’s why Hallmark commercials bring my weep out; why the Folger’s commercial when the son comes home unannounced from war fills my eyes; why the two Zoulies saying, “See ya later” as they fold into their emergency shelters, caught in a fire storm, and live through it, only to come back together in scorched joy, sheds my tears. I feel emotions deeply.

Nothing could have prepared me for the grueling work of brining new life into this world. I spent those nine months growing precious existence: watching tiny feet move my rib cage, a round head pushing my belly button out, countless moments of awe and incredulity. To have this newly breathing baby, sleeping on my chest, was so sacred; just watching him lost in a world of new-born dreams, my heart beat thudding under him, so familiar from all those months of intimate being. Those moments with my babies, come back to me still-so real and so precious. They bring tears.

While love can be painful, it is still joy. It’s never the big things, but it is those quiet moments, often going by without conscience notice, where love flourishes and yes, brings the fullness that can flow over as tears when the cup is brimming that it cannot contain it. It’s seeing Indian and Oreo sillouetted  in moonlight when I drive in at night and giving thanks to God for the blessing. It’s hiking up that mountain trail with a friend and giving thanks for the communion and for the Creator. It’s hearing his voice on the phone each night when he’s been traveling all week, and leaving each other to sleep with, “I love you.” It’s sitting around the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and laughing at all those stories. It’s that song playing on the radio and everyone singing along. And it’s the whisper of the cool breeze on my cheek and the collective breath of all humanity.