April
I was laying in bed snuggling with my 6 month old son when my brother called crying hysterically that his wife had just died in a car accident, leaving him a widow with 5 little kids to raise on his own.
I was laying in bed snuggling with my 6 month old son when my brother called crying hysterically that his wife had just died in a car accident, leaving him a widow with 5 little kids to raise on his own.
My sister walked in on the family crying, unaware we were about to tell her she had been diagnosed with leukemia, and jokingly said, "What, am I dying?"
All I said was that her Facebook page needed to be more professional, and she started crying.
As I walked away from the airport alone with my head held high, shoulders back, and eyes red from crying, I finally knew what it meant to be a military wife.
Since he died, I haven't been able to enjoy hugs at all.
Finishing months of backed up work in a week didn't convince my English teacher that I should go on the field trip and my time would be better spent in the ISS room crying in front of bullies.
As I sat there overwhelmed by Mufasa's death for the umpteenth time, I realized that I hadn't cried at my grandad's funeral.
Though my voice may have seemed calm over the phone, I didn't want you to know that I was really sobbing.
One of the most humiliating moments of my life happened in front of my favorite musician, and the song he wrote about that moment is on his new album.
Later, I would realize that I cried harder when my dog died than I did at Mom's funeral.
It used to annoy me when I would let a tear run all the way down my face, but I've been crying so much lately that I don't even notice until my shirt gets wet.