In the 1993 film Sleepless in Seattle, there's a scene where Rita Wilson sits at a table with Victor Garber and Tom Hanks. She recounts the closing moments of the film An Affair to Remember. This part has always been particularly amusing to me as she begins weeping as she explains how the story pans out. Her voice gets squeaky and incomprehensible. This sort of reaction is something I never fully understood, so I found it humorous. Until recently that is.
I'm turning into one of those women who cries over Hallmark commercials. No joke. Lately, all it takes is a bit of news on the radio to set me off and I start crying. Sometimes it's just a delicate drop. But then, then there are my Rita Wilson moments when I full-on get emotionally involved in something for no good reason at all. Tears. Big. Fatty. Gushing-down-my-cheeks sort of tears.
What am I reacting to? The other day I began weeping over the new standards for mammograms as issued by an independent agency last week. Pushing the base age for mammograms to fifty was apparently a travesty in my life, because I all out wept while listening to the NPR report. Then there are songs like this, which make me weep no matter how many times I listen to them.
Sundays tend to be brutal for me. If I am somehow able to catch Music and the Spoken Word, the chance that I'll make it through the day without tears disintegrates into a pile of nothingness. Today I made it through my dad, the Tall Guy, being asked to speak in church on the spur of the moment. He offered his humble testimony of his knowledge of the life of Jesus Christ. I only made it through that without tears because, well, I didn't look at him through the whole thing. I just couldn't do it. Follow this up with several amazing lessons, stimulating conversation, a couple cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies, and this, and I've been crying off and on most of the day. What the heck?