Have you ever been to a funeral, wedding or a supermarket and cried, yet deep down you aren’t really sure why?
I’ve decided that speaking is over rated, which will come as a shock for those that know me, especially my Mum. I have verbal diarrhoea most of the time. That said, my best bits of my day are usually moments of still, calm and peace in a life of chaos and sounds, tick lists and diary plans. It’s in these moments that I find true happiness, it can be seeing the sun rise or set, having white washing on the line (fresh linen is one of my favourite smells), it can be pizza in the oven or even better delivered on my doorstop with no hassle from me, but very often it’s a hug from a friend rather than the words that accompany it that I like the most.
Sometimes I cry and am not sure why I’m crying. I can cry because I’m happy, over excited or overwhelmed. At other times I can’t remember the last time I had a ‘good cry’ and that’s usually the time I decide to put on a romantic comedy and tear jerk my way through ninety minutes of delight and despair, the cheesier the better and served with pizza is once again a bonus.
When I was learning to live with grief I had a Marmite moment. Perhaps you’ve had one of these? It goes like this:
It was around 11am and I fancied something to eat, I decided on some marmite and toast. As I was buttering the toast I began to cry, I wasn’t really sure why I was crying so carried on buttering and blubbering. As I reached for the Marmite I began to laugh at myself and it was at this point Mr F walked in to find me sobbing my heart out, snot flowing, hyperventilating gasps and laughing all at the same time. His response was priceless and went something like “if you don’t like Marmite just have butter’ this of course made me laugh a little more and eventually in a big hug I was able to explain that I didn’t have a clue why I was crying. He then laughed at me and said it was grief and that it often catches you out at the most odd moments. Since then I’ve always been cautious with Marmite on toast and fully understand that it’s okay to not always know why you feel the way you do. You just do.
I do think those magic tears often allow us to vent emotions that the mouth can’t process. I think they are fundamentally important to our wellbeing and although I don’t cry very often, I sometimes allow myself to wallow in them or break out in laughter tears which always let me know life is pretty spectacular.
Some people don’t cry, ever. I’m not convinced and wonder if they let it out in different ways – perhaps their eyelids get sweaty? Have you ever had a Marmite moment or cried just because? I can’t be the only one…can I?