That’s fine

Is it really? I was having a discussion with my wife the other day and was trying to explain my confusion about the wedding guest list she had to prepare for my son’s upcoming wedding. I knew that she wasn’t very happy with my explanation when she replied with a “that’s fine.”

I took it as sarcasm. You can compare it to what’s often said down south when someone says “bless his/her heart” when the person it’s directed at has made an attempt at doing or saying something that doesn’t meet your standards. Or that you think is below your standards.

It’s a low-level insult, but an insult nonetheless. The one saying it might not realize he or she has uttered something offensive if he or she doesn’t pick up on certain signs from the other person. I’m not sure the signs I gave were the right ones.

The guest list my son wanted from her were the names of my wife’s close friends who were planning on attending, not the entire guest list of everyone. When my wife told me she had to get the guest list ready I thought she meant names of everyone, not just the names of her friends. When I tried explaining why I was confused she said: “that’s fine.” I don’t think my explanation lived up to her standards, bless my heart.

I should learn how to have discussions without explaining myself.

I let them go

I very rarely shed a tear, but I hear that a good cry every now and then is healthy for the soul. I’m not sure I know what a “good” cry is as opposed to a bad one. Is there a difference? If so, how can I tell that the cry I’m feeling will be a good one or a bad one? It must be based on the emotion that brought on the feeling to cry. Sadness is most often associated with crying, I think. But I know there’re joyful occasions of crying too.

When the feeling to cry presents itself it usually arrives with a song I’m listening to. Sometimes the feeling to cry is instagated by a melody I strike up on my guitar, no words, just a melody. I have several of them saved on my iPhone, waiting for words. Melodies always show up for me first, and most often with the cry feeling attached. I wish words would come as easy, but alas, they don’t.

I listen to a lot of folk and Americana music and sometimes the words I hear with the melodies cause a feeling to cry. But I don’t cry, or maybe I can’t for some reason. Perhaps the cry area of my brain doesn’t function normally. Whatever the reason, tears rarely form, but I know they are there, hiding, I can feel them burning the back of my eyes. And there’s that odd feeling in my throat, like tears are trying to come out from there too.

Death is surely one of the top reasons folks cry. But even at that, my tears stay hidden. I remember my maternal grandmother’s funeral, lots of crying, not me. When my dear mother and father passed, my eyes weren’t wet with tears like those of my siblings. Sad stories of friends and family members passing don’t stir me to tears. I feel sad yes, but I don’t cry. I wish I had a normal cry function. I worry though, that if I started crying, I wouldn’t stop. Perhaps oceans of tears are stored somewhere in me, and they’re waiting, waiting for the perfect moment in time when flood gates are no longer needed. Only then will I let them go.