A Good Morning Cry

There's a story by Arnold Lobel, called "Tear Water Tea" from his book, Owl at Home. It's a classic children's story about a sweet, old owl that sits in his favorite chair and thinks about all the things that he's sad about, just for a little while, until he fills a tea pot with tears. The one I remember most is the spoon that has fallen behind the stove so it can no longer be found. There is a list of things that he remembers. Then he hops up and makes a warm cup of tea from all his tears. And all is well. We have a tendency to think it's not ok to cry, or that we hate to cry because we feel so darn vulnerable and yet, crying is our body's way of releasing tension, stored up stress, overwhelm, and anxiety.

Every Saturday morning, I get to go to the Farmer's Market to sell Elderberry Syrup that I make and some duck eggs or herbs I have growing. I truly enjoy this part of my life. What I've noticed is how happy everyone is at the market. It doesn't matter if it is raining or even snowing for that matter, the people that come to Farmer's Markets know the secret to living well. They have joy in their being and I can feel it when I am around them. I usually get everything ready the night before so that after I do my morning chores in the barn, I can just hop in my truck and go. We have to be there by 7:45 am to set everything up. I leave by 7:15 to get there in time. Sometimes I'm a little late, but all is well. I have a simple set up.

The drive there is always full of hope and scenes of rolling hills, cozy villages on the edge of Lake Charlevoix and a morning sky that is heartbreaking if I miss it. I revel in the beauty that surrounds us here in Northern Michigan. It's a little raw and untamed. There's so much water everywhere. It's also about the birds. There are so many! From the cranes to the eagles, the egrets, and songbirds. There are just so many of them. My mom and I used to point them out to each other on the drive. She would come with me every Saturday.

And now she's not physically in the passenger seat any more. I can't even look at the seat. It's too hard to see the reality of that emptiness. There are days when I just distract myself and sing or focus on what I want to do with the rest of our weekend. But sometimes, I feel a longing to bring mom back to me. So I talk to her as if she were still there. Sometimes I think I have gone crazy because who talks to an empty seat! And yet, it's a life affirming conversation for me. I tell her about the pair of sandhill cranes that now have four babies hopping after them in the field. I tell her about my struggles with all manner of things. I tell her I miss her... and that's when the tears start to flow. I cry most of the way to the market. I cry from the depths of my heart. I cry because I miss her voice and her laugh. I give in to grief.

When we've experienced a loss in our life it's amazing how there are moments when it feels like it just happened all over again even if months or even years have gone by. It doesn't matter how much time has gone by, we can grieve as long as we need to.

I am lucky to be able to connect with my mom any time I need to even if it is while I'm driving alone in my truck. There are also so many little things that remind me of her and the joy she brought to our lives. I can only pray that everyone who lives without their loved one can do the same and smile... My mom would never ever want anyone to be sad because she is not physically here on this planet. "Keep letting your light shine", she would say. "I am everywhere" she would say. Honestly, that is the truth. All of our loved ones are. So we do our best to keep letting our light shine and give in to a good morning cry.