Thinking About Crying
It being the year anniversary of 9/11 made me think about crying in general. When I think back to the times I've cried in the past 20 years or so here's what I remember:
Movies I've cried at:
I remember crying at a movie called An American Tail which was cartoon movie about a immigrant mouse named Fivel. I don't remember it too well because I haven't seen that movie since it was in the theater. But I do remember when that friggin mouse got reunited with his friggin father I totally friggin cried.
I cried at the movie The Natural. When he smashed the homerun at the end and he was rounding the bases and the sparks were coming down and the music was all booming. That made me cry. It didn't matter that it made no sense that he was bleeding on the outside from an internal wound.
I cried watching Schindler's List.
I cried watching Titanic when the ship was going down. But I think what triggered that cry was more of my amazement of the special effects and the achievement of it. When the propeller came out of the water is when I cried. Not so much my concern for Leo or whatever. Swear! I didn't like cry when he was all frozen stiff and stuff. I totally whatevered that.
I'm sure I've cried in other movies and maybe at some music. I just don't remember right now.
Crying in real life:
I cried when my family dog died. She was 11 or 12. We had to put her to sleep because she just couldn't get around anymore. I remember on her last day, I offered her a piece of American cheese. And she turned it down. I couldn't believe it. She was nuts for American cheese. That made me cry. I sometimes feel a little guilty that I cried harder for that dog than I have for any one person who died.
I cried last winter at a Christmas card someone sent me in the mail to the Odd Todd PO Box. It was a pretty simple card wishing me good luck and it had like $3.00 in it or something. The handwriting looked old ladyish. I got choked up and cried at that.
And I cried last September. I didn't really cry at all until a couple days after the 11th. I was on the phone with my friend Claire and was watching the news. There was a newswoman outside of one of the hospitals and she was talking to people that were looking for people. They would hold up their 'Missing Person' flyer for the camera. Soon a lot of people looking for people started gathering around the newswoman and they were all trying to get their flyer/photos on camera. There were so many people hysterical and desperate. The newswoman got overwhelmed and started crying. She lost control of her reporting. That's when I really broke down about the whole thing. Somehow it hit me then. All the levels of wrong. All at once.
I spent a lot of time with a huge crowd out by the West Side highway cheering for the emergency vehicles and workers that were coming and going from the Site. I cried a lot while applauding.
Other than that I don't think I've cried since. Thankfully, thank god, thank god, I haven't had anything serious to cry about and for that I'm way, way beyond appreciative.
But it does kind of suck that you chicks have the lock on crying at the drop of a hat over stuff. From seeing Fivel the Mouse get reunited with his father through last year at this time. I think I always feel a lot better after a good cry.