They're surprisingly big and full when they fall, aren't they? Tonight's tears escape one enormous drop at a time, each full from original grief and longing, each now filled past bursting before visibly and audibly splashing from our faces.
The tears are not bigger because of growing sadness (really, I think I'm on to something), but because for many, many years, the associated love continues to grow... How does that even happen? It can't be possible, yet we see, hear, and feel the proof for ourselves.
The years and tears are absolutely crowded with all kinds of enormous moments. Moments when we knew she'd be so proud, moments she'd share our joy like only she could, moments she would let us cry to her, dry our tears, cry with us, care with us... as only she would.
What if... Who knows in what ways our lives, and we ourselves, might be different? We can really only try to imagine, and we do, using those dreams we have sometimes as a starting place.
If asked, most of us won't need to pause before relating just one instance of how she enriched our lives in a way that endures. Some of us could tell those stories for hours, and have, on more than one occasion.
I wonder how many of us measure ourselves by her example. I always fall so short, do you? But I think I will keep trying anyway, will you?
