I’m an emotional slob. Always have been. I cry easily. A stirring rendition of our National Anthem. A soldier brings a bugle to his lips, the mournful, haunting sound of taps echoing. Emotional confessions — real life, movies or even documentaries. Heck, even heart-tugging commercials. Of course, deaths and marriages. The birth of a child or a child in pain. Losing a devoted puppy. Seeing friends and family hurting from a gut punch. When you miss someone and have a heavy heart.

If something has touched my heart and brought a tear to my eye, I’ll almost always tear up again when I retell the story.

My emotional spigot is always there, at the surface. I’d like to think I’m a manly man who is just sensitive to and in touch with my feelings. And that’s okay.

What I’ve learned is that crying doesn’t mean you’re weak. In fact, it’s often a sign of strength. Sometimes a good sob must be released to get strong again. It’s okay to shed a tear and show emotions. Tears mean you have a heart. Perhaps even a mostly pure heart.

Sometimes, we cry in silence. Those are the tears that bear the most substantial pain. We’re talking unhealed heart here — proof positive that tears come from the soul, not the brain. Just letting it out can be transformative.

Someone once said that if you do not weep, you do not see. Shedding tears is how your body speaks when your mouth can’t explain the piercing pain or the unbridled joy you feel. Moreover, if you have loved in any of life’s forms or fashions, you have not been spared from tears.

Taking it one step Higher, tears are also a form of prayer. There is a sacredness in them. They travel to The Man Upstairs when we can’t speak. (Psalm 56:8.)

Are You Crying?

A good cry or even a little tear has always been a way for me to get things out that are buried deep down inside. At least that’s how I reconcile in my mind my chest getting tight and a single tear abruptly sliding down my cheek.

Sometimes, though, I don’t know from whence they bubble up. I’m not one to psychoanalyze myself, so I chalk up such emotions to be an essential safety valve.

For example, I haven’t yet brought to terms the little tears that mysteriously materialize when one of those holiday Publix commercials comes on the tube. It’s an inexplicable experience. Every darned time. And I don’t even drink.

Ditto with those heart-tugging, family-focused commercials during a Super Bowl broadcast. Same with most endings of CBS’s (recently cancelled) police procedural television series Blue Bloods — a good cop show, yes, but above all else, an evocative drama focused on the importance of family. Raindrops from the soul, indeed, which is precisely what the producers were hoping to touch amongst soppy viewers such as myself.

Another example that I’m macho enough (barely) to admit is that Hallmark movies get to me. Not often but often enough, the ending of one of these formulaic flicks finds me choking up at the (always) happy ending. I’m not proud of it, but there it is, rolling down my cheek even as I try to hide it from my grinning wife.

I’ve even disproved the hypothesis that there is no crying in baseball. The first time this happened was when what I call “Why Tears” streamed down my face when, as a 15-year-old, my home team was uprooted and moved to another state. Tore me up (and still makes me angry). And, on the joy side of the diamond, the tears arose when my former woebegone team came out of nowhere to win the seventh game of a World Series via walk-off in extra innings. At home. While I was present in the stands.

Baseball is, of course, an excellent metaphor for life, and this essay underscores that life has its tearful moments. The baseball-is-life story is for another blog.

Gut-Wrenching Tears

Aside from losing a loved one, other occasions have shaken me to my core, generating raw nerves and near-uncontrollable sobs.

I can’t possibly “man up” when revisiting, nearly a quarter-century later, tragedies that have struck our Nation. The September 11 attacks will forever be in my heart, as I’m sure they are with many Americans. Last fall presented anew several agonizing yet inspiring stories tied to the 23rd anniversary of the September 11 attacks. Tears welled from deep inside and coursed down my cheeks. Again. And always. Ditto for the moment of silence and the singing of our National Anthem at Yankee Stadium.

A visit last year to “Reflecting Absence,” the incredible 911 memorial consisting of a pair of reflecting pools in the footprints of the towers, surrounded by a list of the victims’ names in an underground memorial space, made my throat tighten and a lump form in my throat, making it difficult to speak, and compelling tears to stream down my face. Raw emotion.

Another heart-hurt visit comes to mind that carved up something deep inside. The National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel, located in Memphis, TN, explores the history of the Civil Rights Movement and its impact on our culture today. It was one the most emotional experiences I’ve ever had, not just at a museum. The story of our history’s atrocities is unapologetically told. I was ashamed to be a white man and ashamed of our country. A deep sadness enveloped me as I struggled to make sense of it all. Heaving tears welled inside me as a not-so-silent testament to the pain I felt in taking in some of the historical exhibits. I had to gather myself when the tour was over. The experience truly affected me and left a mark. If you haven’t been, go.

There is another one that gets me every time, yet I promised myself to watch it every year. I’ll quote from the experience. “If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that’s a full day. That’s a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you’re going to have something special.” Jim Valvano’s bravery at that moment — and his heartfelt message — is goosebumps-moving beyond words. Is there such a thing as respect tears?

So, I confess I’m a sensitive kind of guy, quick to shed a tear. And I’m more than okay with that. My tears mean I feel deeply … about important things and all sorts of silly stuff. And that’s a good thing. Tears are beautiful.

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Addendum from LSomerbyCooke …

Visit here to see Jim Valvano’s 1993 ESPY speech.