"A time to weep, and a time to laugh..."

The thing that causes me to weep is when someone has come through a long difficult struggle, and overcomes the obstacle that was in their path.  The thing, the problem, the tragedy, that they were tripping over that seemed insurmountable.  And yet they kept on keeping on.  It tears me up.

I can withstand pain.  I can endure death, and tragedy.  Sickness and hardship.  My heart will weep, but my eyes seldom do.  I guess you could describe my personality as stoic--which is defined in the dictionary as "A person who can endure pain or hardship without showing their feelings or complaining."  Sometimes I do what might be considered complaining.  But not because of the situation.  I'm one of those people who tend to think out loud.  And when I am trying to figure out a solution to a problem, and can't seem to solve it, I wonder if maybe you can tell me what to do.  Otherwise, I wouldn't say anything about it.  What's the point?

People weep for different reasons.  Different things touch us,  and we react in different ways.  It doesn't mean we don't feel the same pain.  Or the same joy.  It doesn't mean we aren't grieving deeply.  When Ken died, I didn't cry.  Fifty seven years of loving him, but I didn't cry at his funeral--which was tremendously moving.  Scott planned it all, (he is a Marine, too) and there were film clips of airplanes landing on carriers, flying formations, the Marine Corps Hymn...a real tribute to Ken's life.

But when we buried him at Arlington, there were hundreds of Marines marching in formation, the Marine Band, and the horses pulling the caisson, officers on horseback...I thought about all the young men who were there for that ceremony, who had gotten up that morning and donned their dress blues to march in a parade to honor a fellow Marine.  And of all of the Marines who get up every day and sometimes, like Ken did, face insurmountable situations--face death, but endure and do their jobs-- which might mean giving up their life, I was moved to tears.  They call themselves "a band of brothers."  Ken once said that when you are being fired upon you aren't thinking about your country, you're thinking about the Marine next to you.  You can't save your country in that moment, but you might save your brother fighting beside you. They say that Marines don't cry.  Sometimes, they do.