The fits of crying began in earnest over my decaf latte and the morning newspaper. And the crying jags became a constant as the day wore on.
The world isn't in such a mess that reading about the state of things provoked tears. Even worse than that! It was a love story sixty years in the making. Buried near the back of the Sunday Style section are the wedding, engagement, and anniversary announcements. Usually people only read those if someone they know is in the paper. But as a genealogist, reading about births, marriages, and deaths is a daily occurrence.
The article that brought tears to my eyes was about a couple who couldn't get married. No, not star-crossed lovers or two people in other marriages. Two men. In earlier years, they circumvented laws of inheritance and privacy by having one legally adopt the other. Then something happened. All of a sudden it was legal for gays and lesbians to marry. (They annulled the adoption well before the wedding.) Their lives have been rich and full and they plan to remain together forever. Even after death, their ashes will be placed side by side in Arlington National Cemetery, both having served our country during World War II.
The next hankie soaker did not take me so much by surprise. Enough people had told me that Toy Story 3 is a real tear-jerker. Waterproof mascara to the rescue! Sure enough. The tears started rolling early in the movie. Without giving too much away, it should be safe to say that Andy is heading off to college in this threequel. With my eldest heading off to college herself in two months, the movie took on a new gravity as seen through the eyes of a mother about to watch as her first baby leaves home. My critique of the movie? Three thumbs way up.
Both heartwarming stories. Both stories of the power of love and devotion. To answer my youngest when she asked if you can cry tears of joy. Emphatically. Yes!
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