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Sometimes You Just Have to Cry
There are a lot of things about parenthood that
could make one cry: The cost of formula, sleepless
nights, or diaper messes just to name a few.
However, for me the absolute worst had to be -
immunization shots. There are a lot of things about
parenthood that could make one cry: The cost of
formula, sleepless nights, or diaper messes just to
name a few. However, for me the absolute worst had
to be - immunization shots.
At about two months into parenthood, I learned
the true meaning of the word
“heartbreak”. There could not have be
anything worse than watching helplessly as you
receive your first round of immunization shots. I
would have rather have been run over by a truck
than have to sit there and watch you go through
that. While listening to your screams, I kept
thinking that surely medical science could have
come up with a better way of doing this by now. As
far as any solace from the doctor, all he could say
was, “Ah, look at those healthy tears.”
As we left the office, I whispered into your ear,
“It’s okay, Sam. Sometimes you just have
to cry.”
In a way I guess it was only a matter of time
before you were introduced to pain in your life. I
remembered losing my father to a sudden car
accident a number of years ago. I tried to remain
strong through it all. One day, when a song came on
the radio that reminded me of your grandpa, I
completely lost it. It was the first time since the
funeral that I just let go and cried. It felt good
to not hold back anymore.
The earliest memory I have of my father is one
of me as a young boy holding his hand by his two
last fingers as we walked together. His hands
seemed so large that his fingers were all I could
actually grip. He always took me with him to ball
games even at my young age. I will never forget
that.
As I grew older I remember dad and I listening
to high school basketball games together on an old
transistor radio. I would make a list of players
names on a piece of paper and keep track of how
many points each would score as the game went on.
Too small to stay awake for the whole game, I
always fell asleep before the game ended. When I
would wake up in the morning I would find the score
sheet lying next to me. The score sheet would be
filled out with the final score on it completed by
my father before he carried me to bed. I’ll
always remember that.
I remember the times when my father would stop
by the house in the early morning on those cold
days when I was home from school over Christmas
break. I used to ride on the floor of that bread
truck as he delivered the bread to the stores. I
don’t know if those old trucks even had
heaters but it didn’t matter. The smell and
warmth from the bread that had just come from the
bakery ovens would make my mouth water and keep me
warm both at the same time. I’ll never forget
that.
I high school I became very interested in
athletics. My father would attended all my games.
My senior year our football team qualified to play
in the state championship game. It was the first
time in the history of our school that any team had
advanced that far. The night before the game my
father came to me and sadly announced that he would
not be able to attend. He had to deliver the bread
to the stores and the site of the games was a three
hour drive from his route. He vowed to listen to
every play on the transistor radio. Consumed with
the anticipation of the game I acknowledged his
comments without fully noticing his regret. The
next day as game time approached I couldn’t
help thinking about my dad. For some reason as I
lined up for the second half kickoff I happened to
look across the field into the parking lot. There I
saw his blue and white bread truck pulling into the
stadium. He has delivered the bread and made the
long drive in time to at least see part of the game
in which we won the state championship. I’ll
never forget that.
Years later I had become a teacher and coach.
Early one morning I was awakened by the sound of
the telephone ringing at 5:30 A.M. As I struggled
to answer the phone I’ll never forget the
sound of the sheriff’s voice on the other end
telling me that my dad had just been killed in an
automobile accident on his way to work. Cattle from
a nearby farm had broken through a fence and
wandered onto the highway. Being a dark, rainy
morning my father never saw them as he came over a
ridge. The impact spun the car sideways in the
highway before a semi-trailer collided with it. He
was killed instantly. As I listened to the story I
could hear my heart beat in my ears. I hung up the
phone devastated.
For long time after that things really
didn’t matter to me. I went about my life but
I really didn’t care. It felt as if my heart
had been torn away and in a sense it had. I went to
work. I still taught school but I was just going
through the motions.
One day I was on the school playground
supervising a first grade recess when a little boy
walked up to me. As I looked down at him he reached
up and grabbed my hand by my last two fingers. Just
I use to do to my dad. In that moment my father
came back to me. In that instant it hit me that
even though my father was gone he had left me
something behind. He had left me his smile. He had
left me his compassion. He had left me his heart.
When that little boy touched my hand I realized
that all these wonderful gifts that I had loved so
much about my father could be passed on to others.
From that moment on I started. In that moment I
understood the meaning of the word heritage.
I’ll always remember that.
Like his father, there will be times in my
son’s life when he will feel pain. When that
happens, I hope I am there for him. If I am not, I
hope he remembers the words I whispered in his ear
that day as we left the doctor’s office.
“It’s okay, Sam. Sometimes you just have
to cry.”
© 2007, Tom
Krause
Related Topics: Feelings
* * *
Men often enter genuine feeling for the first
time when in deep grief, after cheerfulness and
excitement have failed for years to bring them
there. - Robert Bly
Tom
Krause is one of America's most powerful,
inspirational, and motivational speakers. His
heartwarming presentations have inspired thousands
of people to bring out the best in themselves for
their future. An educator and coach in the Missouri
Public School System for over twenty years, Tom is
also known for his contributions to several books
in the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. His
inspirational poetry has been read by over three
million people world wide. Audiences of all ages
and from all walks of life find his presentations
unforgettable. www.coachkrause.com
or E-Mail.
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