Strong People Cry

Dad cried at the movie. Not a lot. Just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. He wiped them away quick. "Dad, are you CRYING?" He laughed a little. "Yeah. That part got me." "But you're a grown-up. And you're..." I didn't know how to say it. "A man?" "Yeah." Dad turned to me. "Can I tell you something important?" I nodded. "Crying isn't weak. Crying is what happens when you feel something deeply. That's not weakness. That's being human." "But strong people don't cry." "Strong people cry all the time. Firefighters cry when they lose someone they tried to save. Athletes cry when they win AND when they lose. Soldiers cry when they miss their families." I thought about that. "Your grandfather cried," Dad said. "When you were born. Big tears. He didn't hide them." "Grandpa? Really?" "Really. He said it was the happiest he'd been in years. That's worth crying about." I looked at the TV. The sad part was over. But I was still thinking. "So it's okay for me to cry?" "It's more than okay. It's healthy. When you hold tears in, they don't disappear. They just get stuck inside you. It's better to let them out." I didn't say anything. But I remembered last week when I fell off my bike and tried not to cry. It hurt to hold it in. "Next time something makes you want to cry," Dad said, "let yourself." "Even if people see?" "Even then. Strong people feel their feelings. All of them." I leaned against Dad's shoulder. Maybe crying wasn't so bad after all.