Big Girls Don't Cry

You're minutes away from leaving for the funeral and you're told by a person of authority that they don't want to see any tears (I think the exact phrase included the words, "snot slinging" but my memory has definitely faded somewhat so I can't be sure); you're being spanked as punishment and you're told to, "stop all that crying" when it's over; you're teased to the point of tears, then held against your will in front of a huge mirror and told, "you're ugly when you cry."

Yes, these things happened to me.

Your father dies and you can't remember him ever saying he loved you - when you break down in grief, in fact, you are driven to your knees with it. You don't remember that experience including any kind words. There weren't any arms to hold you in your pain. You're just looked at as if you're a science experiment under general observation.

All of that to say, I don't cry easily (if at all). And if I do shed a tear, i