Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Omphaloskepsis, Third


Anyone who's read this blog from the "Before All of This" days, or B.C. (Before Cancer) is probably aware that the one thing I feared most about being a minister was crying. I was a crier. You know how movie stars get botox in their armpits to keep from sweating? I thought it patently unfair that they couldn't botox my tear ducts. Laughing, sad, I cried. Frustrated, I cried. Hallmark commercials, I cried. It was a family joke (in the way that it's not really funny to the person concerned) about what a crybaby I was.

Last Fall, I had two big challenges. I had to give a sermon the Sunday after Hurricane Katrina -- well, the song I had picked out, two months earlier, was Bridge Over Troubled Water. Boo-hoo.

Then, a coupla months later, an older friend of mine died. And I had to do the memorial service.

Tonight, I watched House. In it, a baby died. After being suffocated by his mother, who was insane at the moment. The Husband could barely stand it. Audible sniffs.

For me, no tears. Total detachment.



Anne said...

It is amazing how personal crisis can change you. I have gone the opposite directions. I used to be a tough show no pain no tears kinda gal. Now I cry if I cant find the remote.

PeaceBang said...

You know, I thought of you and so many other parents of sick children when I saw that episode of "House." It didn't really move me, either, and I think it's because it was somehow directed in a really detached way.

Sam said...

I'd say you're getting a little blunted, and not in a good way. But that's just my "insane person spouting off" opinion.