[Alffe]

The suicide rate for men is four times that of women. One reason may be the frequent inability of men to express their deepest needs and feelings.

Hang tough. Big boys don't cry.. Many little boys have learned from their fathers the manly art of stifling grief. But men and women have reasons to cry.

An example is Ed Miller. Ed's wife of 45 years died unexpectedly. Ed stopped going to visit friends, stopped going anywhere.

A woman befriended him, and he accepted. He invited Sharon over for lunch and talked about the weather, his garden, and the latest book he read. But he never talked about his wife. Ed never cried, never grieved.

Several months passed and Ed still stayed at home. He was tired and wanted to be alone.

One day Sharon dropped by Ed's house to give him a book about grief and loss. He told her he wouldn't read it, but she left it on the table anyway. Three days later she received a phone call. Ed was laughing, crying, and shouting at the same time, "I'm normal! Thank you!"

Grieving is a normal part of life. We have tear ducts for a reason. Crying can release fear, hurt, and despair. It can help unfold rage. It's healthy to cry when you need to; it's OK to let others see you cry. In fact, it may help give them permission to feel their feelings.

What we don't feel can hurt us. It can make us tired, withdrawn, confused. It can kill us. Crying can help cleanse pain from the heart and soul.

Try crying, even - especially- if you don't like it.

______________

Sharon Fish/Lissa H.Johnson from A Reason to Live author Melody Beattie

[Doody]

(((Ms. Alffe))) I love you so much.

[Nik-key]

I love this quote..........

"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love."
--Washington Irving

[Alffe]

"Our culture says that men must be strong and that the strength of a man in sorrow is to be seen in his tearless face. Tears are for women. Tears are signs of weakness and women are permitted to be weak. Of course it's better if they too are strong.

But why celebrate stoic tearlessness? Why insist on never outwarding the inward when that inward is bleeding? Does enduring while crying not require as much strength as never crying? Must we always mask our suffering? May we not sometimes allow people to see and enter it? I mean, may men not do this?

And why is it so important to act strong? I have been graced with the strength to endure. But I have been assaulted, and in the assault wounded, grievously wounded. Am I to pretend otherwise? Wounds are ugly, I know. They repel. But must they always be swathed?

I shall look at the world through tears. Perhaps I shall see things that dry-eyed I could not see."

Lament for a Son by Nicholas Wolterstorff

[Alffe]

"Each death is an unique as each life. Each has its own stamp. Inscape. the tree in Hopkins;s garden had an inscape, but so did the felling of the tree. And one child's death differs from another not in the intensity of the pain it causes but in the quality. To see a young life wither and die is as painful as to see it snapped off.

The son of a friend - same age as Eric - died a few weeks before Eric. The friend's son committed suicide. The pain of his life was so intense that he took the life that gave the pain. I thought for a time that such a death must be easier to bear than the death of one with zest for life. He wanted to die. When I talked to the father, I saw that I was wrong.

Death is the great leveller, so our writers have always told us. Of course they are right. But they have neglected to mention the uniqueness of each death - the solitude of suffering which accompanies the uniqueness.
We say, "I know how you are feeling." But we don't. "


Lament for a Son by Nicholas Wolterstorff

[Junie]

I know I have been crying for on and off 2 years now and I have been suppressing for all that time! I guess I am weird huh?

[Alffe]

No Junie, I don't think you are wierd at all. We'll never cry all of our tears.

There is a wonderful book called Tear Soup and Grandy is making a big pot of it because she needs plenty of room for all the misgivings, and feelings.

We make soup for many reasons, loss of a pet, stillbirth, chronic illiness, suicide, friends dying, divorce, loss of a job we loved...many reasons to get that big (More than I can bear size pot) down from the shelf.

Here is Grandy's recipe

*a pot full of tears

*one heart willing to be broken open

* a dash of bitters

* a bunch of good friends

*many handfuls of comfort food

* a lot of patience

*buckets of water to replace the tears

* plenty of exercise

* a variety of helpful reading material

* enough self care

* season with memories

* optional; one good therapist and/or support group

Directions:

Choose the size pot that fits your loss. It's ok to increase pot size if you miscalculated. Combine ingredients. Set the temperature for a moderate heat. Cooking times will very depending on the ingredients needed. Strong flavors will mellow over time. Stir often. Cook no longer than you need to.

Suggestions:

* be creative.

*trust your instincts.

*cry when you want to, laugh when you can.

* freeze some soup to use as a starter next time.

* keep your own soup making journal so you won't forget.

Serves: One


Tear Soup by Pat Schwiebert and Chuck DeKlyen