Yesterday I Cried

I could feel the tears make their way down my cheeks. They felt foreign to me though a relief at the same time. Aside from the typical girl movie or a really good book, I don’t cry. I’m not the woman to cry while getting married, giving birth, or talking to my kids. If me and my husband argue, I can typically keep my face dry; not always but most of the time.

Yesterday all the way from Ludington to Muskegon, my entire commute, my face was soaking wet. In fact, truth-be-told, I think I was a bumbling fool. The back of my hand was soaked from me continuously wiping my face off. Over and over again the tears spilled down my cheeks. I had the flavor of salt draining down my throat for the entire hour.

My brain was running a hundred miles a minute. I tried to pinpoint the reason for my unusual display of emotions. I went through a mental checklist:

  • Does work suck? Nothing more than I’m used to. Working with suicidal kids can be a drag at times, but I realized this wasn’t it.
  • Is my marriage secure? More than ever. I feel confident and happy in my marriage.
  • Are my kids unusually sick? Nope, they are healthy. Ileyah is happy and doing well, Brandina hasn’t thrown up in a few weeks, Brandon Dontae’s asthma is in control. My kids are healthy.
  • Am I hormonal? Nope. Hormones are all in check.
  • Money? Nope, money is fine.

That’s when it dawned on me. Apparently the shootings in Muskegon have really taken a toll on me. My brain kept going to what if it was Ileyah, what would I do? How could I handle that? Could I go on knowing she was gone? My husband works in the Heights right near where all the shootings took place, what if it was him? Could I manage successfully for my three children? Would I break down into a mental oblivion? How could I deal with the loss of the one person that has stood beside me in almost every single obstacle and success in my life? I’d be lost. What if it were Dina or Dontae? Could I live a life knowing that I wasn’t there for their last breath?

The media says that the shootings are at aimed targets. That they don’t affect anyone aside from the people they are going for and their families. The media is wrong. I know this because I cried and I never cry.

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