I have cried every day for the last two and a half weeks. Some of those tears came in giant waves, ripping apart my heart as they flowed non-stop from my eyes. Some of them were single tears that spilled over the edge of my eyelids in my failed attempt to keep it all together. And then there were all the other tears. They came too. They have graced me with their presence at least once every day for the past two and a half weeks.
Every day but Saturday.
And let me tell you something, it felt so good to not cry for that one entire day.
It was kind of a big deal for me.
You see, on Saturday JQ had a gig at a funky little bar in Maumee called The Village Idiot. Always fun and always peppered with people I’ve known in my lifetime. Plus they have amazing pizza there. Like the Greek one that has feta, artichoke hearts, olives, banana peppers, and tomatoes on it. Yum.
I’m not sure if it was because the gig was in the town we grew up in or what, but my grandma offered to take G-tot overnight so I could go see JQ play. So I did. And so did approximately 25 of our friends and family members. Most of whom I hadn’t seen since the miscarriage. But all of them already knew and I was actually able to talk briefly about it and accept their condolences without crying.
And since I spent the previous fourteen days in tears and generally avoiding the company of others it was a pretty big deal. Maybe I had enough distractions throughout the day that I didn’t have time to dwell on the loss and the grief. Maybe it was the full moon. Maybe it was the music.
Whatever it was it felt really good. I think I’m ready for more of those tear-free days.