Tears

Tears are a liquid produced by the body's process of lacrimation to clean and lubricate the eyes.

That's a very technical and plain definition. I copied it verbatim from Wikipedia. Truthfully, tears are much more complex.

Tears can come from any one of several emotions. People cry out of fear, anger, sadness, and happiness. But no matter which one of those emotions one is feeling, the tears shed are of the same makeup.

Tears are made of sodium chloride, lyzosyme, water and a little bit of mucus. There's a reflex in the body that causes excess tears to drain into the nasal cavity. That's what makes the nose run whenever we tear up.

The ingredients cheapen the value we place on the salty droplets of emotion that flow from our eyes at our most vulnerable times. To speak of crying in such a way that lessens it to a strictly biological function removes the raw, human aspect.

Tears are much more important than that.

I can remember the first important cry of my life. I was 17-years-old. It was senior night. We were playing Claymont in a football game that meant nothing in terms of the playoff race. I had spent the last seven years of my life working towards nothing but football. It wasn't a situation where I was used. I voluntarily did this. The players, coaches, and fans...they were my family. It was my last game at McFarland Stadium and I cried from pre-game stretch until kickoff.

I cried during pre-game walkthrough when the coach that had ridden my ass for the last three years asked me if everything was okay. I cried when I spoke to the underclassmen about the importance of the game while telling them about how I got my first starting chance as a sophomore in a home game against Claymont, an interesting parallel. They probably didn't hear a word I said. I was crying too hard. I cried when my parents walked down the track with me as the PA announcer called our names. I cried when my mom whispered, "I'm proud of you," in my ear.

I cried.

It was the first time I held absolutely no control over my tear ducts. Little bits of water, sodium chloride, lyzosyme and mucus were everywhere.

The older I get, (I'm all of 20-years-old now,) the more I cry.

I cry when I see a relatively sad movie. I cry when I see a particularly moving feature on ESPN by Chris Connelly. I cry when Randy Quaid gives his life to save the world in Independence Day.

I cry.

The most telling example of this is the game my house has started playing: The Crying Game.

A group of mildly drunk individuals sit around at the end of the night and listen to a list of rather heart-wrenching, tear-jerking songs. The first one to cry loses.

We've done this for the past few months. For the past few months, I've been losing.

In December, I lost my Grandfather. He was, undoubtedly the leader of my family and was an example of, what I considered to be, a truly great man.

I cried at that funeral. I cried when I gave a eulogy. I cried. It was the first time I had ever seen my father cry.

Ever since then, it seems as though I can cry at the drop of a hat. And I think I know why.

Any time a situation arises where I could cry, I start thinking about those moments. I remember that funeral. I remember my family. I remember my father.

You see, when one potentially sad situation presents itself, another immediately pops into your mind. It creates a type of chain reaction that ends in a stream of tears that flows down your face.

But here's the thing. Those tears, as uncomfortable as they seem, serve a purpose. They force you to think about the things in your life that matter most. When I'm taken back to that podium at my grandfather's funeral I'm reminded of my family's faces and how much they mean to me. That, in turn, reminds me of how lucky I am to have them. And, as odd as it may seem, those tears always end with a strange smile.

So, perhaps, the seemingly painful process of crying holds an inherent healing mechanism. Perhaps, it makes you feel good in the end. Perhaps, we should all start crying a little every now an again. Perhaps, we should all start playing The Crying Game.

Crying, as an emotional reaction, is considered by many to be a uniquely human phenomenon.

I copied that verbatim from Wikipedia, too.

As a human, I'd agree. It goes deeper than water, sodium chloride, lyzosyme and a little mucus.