Tears, idle tears: we know not what they mean
We sometimes speak of having a “good cry,” reflecting the common assumption that crying when upset can lead to a release of tension and make us feel better.
This NY Times article reports on research that indicates that this is more true in some situations than others:
The study found crying with just one other person present was significantly more likely to produce a cathartic effect than doing so in front of a larger group.
In addition, depressed people don’t seem to benefit as much as others from crying.
To me, both findings are in the nature of, “Well, duh.” And the study didn’t appear to deal with what is perhaps the most common setting of all for crying: alone.
Crying is nearly universal, but not all that well understood. So let’s just let the poets (Tennyson’s wonderful and mysterious “Tears, Idle Tears”) have the last word [emphasis mine]:
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.
Dear as remembered kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more.
So sad. My cat was diagnosed with bone cancer two weeks ago. My sister has been battling liver cancer for a year and a half. This week we got the news that our mother has pancreatic cancer.
I’m swamped. I notice that other people are afraid of that, and when you tell them this kind of news, they draw away from you, perhaps in fear that you’ll place major demands on them. When all you need, really, is a kind pat on the arm, a hug, and a “God, I’m so sorry. That’s awful. I’ll pray for you and your family.”
And maybe a casserole. (Just kidding.)
Really, though, just being an “ear” to someone going through this isn’t so hard, and it’s a wonderful boon to your friend. And you don’t have to sign on to do it daily or anything. Chances are, your friend has other friends to talk to, too.
The other thing I really appreciate as I get through this is going on outings where I can have a good time and put all this grief on the shelf for a couple of hours. I don’t want to think about it all the time–I’d go crazy.
I agree that crying with one kind person is more comforting than crying in front of a group. I also feel that if you can really let out the stops and howl, it helps: so does cursing God, if you need to. It lets you offload some of the emotional overburden, so you can go your way on lighter feet.
I can sure relate to what Beverly has said. My wife died just about a year ago from diabetic complications and she couldn’t sustain major surgery. We are well conditioned to acquire and possess but not so for loss. Acquistion is accorded status and praise, loss and sickness becomes weakness and almost disdainful. People don’t know what to say – they fear their own mortality, they worry about making a person sad and setting off a bout of grief should they talk about it. Men are supposed to be strong and stoic and some people have a problem with a man crying. Lots of stupid things are said in time of grief – be strong – God wanted him/her more than you – you’ll find another mate – at least her/his pain has ended – at least you still have the rest of your kids – etc etc
Yes, Goesh. Really, all you want is someone to agree with you that it’s a terrible loss, and pat you as you cry. I do think that the best consolers are those who’ve been through it themselves. It also helps to have rituals to deal with bereavement, which most modern Americans don’t have. I’m a Christian, but I always thought sitting shiva (sp?) was a good idea.
After a friend lost a child, we were talking about how some people said stupid things to her, like those Goesh mentioned, while other people were so terrified of saying the wrong thing that they shunned her completely. She said she knew people were afraid of reminding her, but in truth, she never forgot for a moment. She said, “They’re afraid they’ll make me cry. But talking about him LETS me cry.”
I am so sorry, Beverly and Goesh.