The Susan Sequel

When I was in third grade, my teacher died.  There was no preparation for her death, she took a short leave of absence and died in the middle of the school year.  We later found out that she had been sick with cancer for some time, but her students were never told she was ill and she never showed any signs that I can remember. Mrs. Floyd was a teacher… you know, the kind they show in the movies and in old Leave it to Beaver episodes. She was very highly respected and, when they built a new elementary school in my neighborhood, it was named after her; Gloria Floyd Elementary still remains a popular area school.  I vividly remember the day the principal told the class about her death.  It was sad, and I remember feeling sad about it.  But what I remember most about that day was the reaction from Natalie, a girl in my class, who was crying as if Mrs. Floyd had been her own mother. I remember being fascinated by Natalie’s reaction to Mrs. Floyd’s death, so much so that I can distinctly remember it today, more than 40 years after it occurred.

To be honest, I don’t think that often about Mrs. Floyd or her untimely death (although my mother still likes to tell everyone who the elementary school is named after). But recently, my 19 year old daughter asked me why I don’t cry. Generally, I would immediately dismiss her nonsense as an overstatement (Hannah is known for being a tad bit dramatic). However, it made me think and, for some strange reason, Natalie’s tears from that day kept entering my mind.  To clarify, Hannah’s point was that I didn’t cry when I dropped her off at college and that somehow, this was the true indicator of my love for her (as if giving birth to her and raising her wasn’t nearly enough). Apparently, her friends’ mothers cried (and still cry) when they drop their kids off at college (even after a short break). Of course, I immediately became defensive and told her I did cry, but when I thought about it more, I had to take a step back and ask myself… did I really?  In all honesty, I don’t think of myself as a particularly emotional person (however, after 21 years of marriage, my husband would probably call this bull**it). Following much deliberation, I have decided that I do cry; however, I supposed I don’t always cry when it’s expected of me.

Clearly, I was emotional about my first child leaving for college. The whole process of graduation, preparation and move in is exhausting, draining and poignant. I’m not an iceberg (although I’m sure I’ve been accused of being frigid at some point in my life). In fact, on the day before we left to take Hannah to school, she and I saw a movie, one of our favorite things to do together.  On the way home from the movie, it dawned on me that our family dynamics were changing and that I was going to have to see movies my husband and son (their movie choices will make anyone cry)…. and, guess what? I cried! Sobbed actually; from the heart. I think I earned some credit for this one because she was actually in the car with me when it happened and saw it with her own eyes (in fact, I think she laughed at me).  However, for some unknown reason, it’s more important to her that I didn’t cry when I finally left her in the dorm, three days later. Honestly, I didn’t! I was spent… move in was long, hot and strenuous. She was happy, so I was happy. Did I cry at any time after I dropped her off? Maybe… maybe not?  I don’t remember, if I’m telling the truth.  And why should I? What made her decide that my tears, or lack thereof, were the defining factor on my parenting ability? Hannah and I have always been exceptionally close…  what is it about my tears that would make her even remotely insecure about this? More importantly, why didn’t she bother to ask if her father cried (because he didn’t either)? Does that somehow make him a better parent than me (or are the expectations for fathers just a little lower)?

So, now I’ve been thinking about crying and what, personally, causes me to cry.  I know that I cry when something moves me (good or bad).  I’ve been known to cry at movies (just the title Marley & Me makes me weepy), at various television shows (clearly not This Is Us) and even at the random television commercial (the daughter who dances on her father’s toes gets me every time).  I’ve been known to cry when my husband barks at me (it’s not that often, but he’s Italian and when he erupts, it isn’t pretty).  On the flip side, I am also prone to cry when I’m really happy. Watching Hannah when she performs makes me tear up every time (no matter how many times I’ve seen her do it), my birthday cards & messages this year from my family & friends truly touched me to happy tears, etc. I need to check with the boss, but I think that happy tears should also count on the good parenting checklist?

So, what do you think? What makes you cry? More importantly, do you think I’m a bad parent (you don’t have to answer that… I just threw it in to see if you’re still paying attention)!  Pass the tissues please!