Crying day

Yesterday I cried on at least three separate occasions. Had gone days or more without that...then the gates were open.

It started before work when I stopped by my friendly Italian barber shop and asked for a cut. I only go to Phil about two or three times a year now that I cut my hair (what's left) at home mostly. It's hard for me to spend $20 + tip on the little hair I have left. I've been going to him for probably more than 10 years now. I see him on the evening train ride home, and so we know each other well. It was just me, Phil and Franko-the other barber, in the shop that a.m. We typically chat about weather, sports, vacations and family...we got past the damn cold weather issue and the lack of any scheduled trips, then silence for a few minutes. Then Phil says, 'tell me something good, how are the kids?'... Well, that's all it took. I mentioned that it was Lauren's first birthday that day and that I had some sad news...When I told them, he and Franko were floored and did not expect to hear such bad news. Phil hugged me in the chair, from the side, and tried to gather words to express his sorrow.

I know I will continue to run into people who do not know about Christine and will then have to tell them the sad news...in public places most likely. As I sat there in the chair and cried, as Phil tried to continue to cut, he expressed his sadness and sorrow, stating that it should not happen like that today. He talked about his two sisters (3.5 and 1.5) who passed away many many years ago back in Italy, and that back then it was more common. As I continued to cry/chat, another patron came in chatted with Phil and was going to wait for Phil to finish with me...he sat down and I tried to compose myself as to not look like a babbling fool. As we finished, and I got up to pay him at the front counter, he said, 'don't take this wrong, but go buy something for your little girl'. He did not want me to pay for the cut...now that's not why I went in there...free cut. I went in to get well groomed since the last time I had a cut was the day of the wake, 5 weeks earlier, in a rush in my master bath...it looked shaggy and needed to be cut a week earlier. I thanked him, began to cry some more and gave him a hug. As I walked to get my coat, Franko stood up, with tears in his eyes and gave me a hug and said how sorry he was...now that was a weird scene for patron #1. He had to be wonder what the heck was going on. As I left, in tears, I again thanked them both and walked the block and 1/2 to the office weeping--tears freezing to my cheeks. As I entered the elevator in my building, a woman getting off, did a double take at me and must have seen my tear soaked eyes.

Then, throughout the day, I spoke to my sister, my friend Dave, my mom and a close client-Dan...I recalled this story and other issues relating to Christine, struggling family life etc. and cried along the way--on the phone, in my open cube at the office. My eyes looked like hell.

I'm thinking a good cry in the morning, helps me get focused for tasks at work...nah.