First, it’s a lump in the throat, and then, virtually without fail, the tears flow in that same direction. It’s a slippery passageway.
No trigger warning. I am blindsided by a sound, an image, anything, really. And it’s most days.
Always labeled sensitive (mostly “too sensitive”), I’ve never found accessing feelings a stretch. But now I’ve got tears on tap. I think people miss my rapid-fire dad jokes, but the tradeoff isn’t as bleak as it sounds. My new normal isn’t all bad. It’s maybe a passageway or portal to something, dare I say, optimal?
Tears are the heart’s waterslide.
We were watching the Lakers vs. Warriors game last Saturday night when the sportscaster mentioned an anecdote about a Golden State Warriors player, Gui Santos, calling his parents in Brazil to share the thrilling, life-changing news of his 3-year, $15 million contract:
Waterslide blindside.
See, that’s because in a flash, I zoomed back to all the calls that started with “MOMMMMA!”
…the calls from Joey telling me some exciting, potentially life-changing news. Often, it was a callback or a job booked.
The lump in my throat knowing there will be no more such calls from my boy.
As dark as that can be, I willingly ride that saltwater slide. In all the jarring turns, lumpy seams, pitch back spots, and unexpected dropouts, at the end, I am washed. Baptized.
As counterintuitive as it is, I try to be thankful for a slippery passageway that brings my heart into the light.