An article in the news today made me laugh. Here's the lead: In a shocking and very important poll, it is revealed that the average woman will cry for an equivalent of 16 months of her entire life.
This phrase, particularly, is funny: "In a shocking and very important poll."
I wasn't shocked, and this news isn't important. But after I was done laughing, I pondered women's tears. Further down, the "shocking poll" states: Teenage girls cry for two hours and 13 minutes a week, and by their mid-20's women will weep about 2.24 hours a week.
When I look back to those years of my life--the teens and twenties--yep, that's probably accurate.
I asked my husband Kenneth about his tears, his crying-time, and why he didn't cry much. "Because I don't give a shit," he said. Then he went back to work, making fresh vegetable juice. This is Kenneth's new daily concoction, and it's delicious. Maybe a little too much ginger, but nothing to cry about.
Well, I suppose all that crying has something to do with hormones. This doesn't take rocket science to figure out. But I was amazed at the amount of time spent weeping. 16 months! No wonder I didn't finish building the Space Needle.
As I've gotten older, I cry less. However, that might be caused by the dehydration in my body; everything is either falling down or shriveling up.
Getting older is becoming more attractive to me. Good that I feel that way, because it's happening! Might as well ride the horse in the direction it's going. Off the mortal cliff?
I find I don't give a shit as much. Or I do, but it's all passing too quickly. The next thing to cry about is here before I cried about the last thing. And the main thing: I don't have a lot of time left to cry when I could be writing or playing tennis or drinking my vegetable juice with Kenneth.
Speaking of tennis, when Roger Federer won Wimbledon this year, he cried. I think he cried after winning the French Open, too. While watching Roger cry, I cried. But those were tears of joy. I wonder how many tears of joy we cry in our lives? Thinking about that: I've cried many a happy tear. Maybe at least six months' worth in my entire life.
I'm working on a poem right now for my nephew's wedding in October. One line is still not right, but I have a few more months to work on it. I"ll be reciting this poem in the church in Carmel, in front of about 250 people, all my family members and many close friends. Even when I recite the poem by myself in a parking lot, I cry. I wish there was a tear-faucet, and I could turn it off during my recitation at the wedding.
Lucretius, the Roman philosopher and poet, born 98 BC, wrote about "the tears of things." Tears are part of our deepest humanity. He also said:
"Death is the dissipation of a being's material mind. Lucretius uses the analogy of a vessel, stating that the physical body is the vessel that holds both the mind and spirit of a human being. Neither the mind nor spirit can survive independent of the body. Thus Lucretius states that once the vessel (the body) shatters (dies) its contents (mind and spirit) can, logically, no longer exist. So, as a simple ceasing-to-be, death can be neither good nor bad for this being. Being completely devoid of sensation and thought, a dead person cannot miss being alive. According to Lucretius, fear of death is a projection of terrors experienced in life, of pain that only a living (intact) mind can feel. Lucretius also puts forward the 'symmetry argument' against the fear of death. In it, he says that people who fear the prospect of eternal non-existence after death should think back to the eternity of non-existence before their birth, which they probably do not fear."
This could make me cry. But it's time to play tennis.
Causes Susan Browne Supports
Run Together, A Race to Raise Money for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society