Sad and Happy Tears as the Waters Part One More Time
As I read Rhinestone Cowgirl’s post earlier this week about feeling blue, I was happy not to have felt depressed in a long time. But by Thursday things had changed. A profound sadness had settled in and I tried to figure out why. Was it my new young boss’s question to me on Wednesday “What exactly IS your work schedule?” prompted by the fact that I seem to miss a lot of work these days because of doctors’ appointments and various therapy sessions. Or was it the fact that I still felt like shit, despite the fact that I had been diagnosed with a sinus infection and was on antibiotics?
I don’t know why, but whatever the cause, things that I normally like to do were becoming a chore. And I felt like I wasn’t doing a good job at anything I attempted. My Shabbat dinner for 10 that I had been so looking forward to was slowly degenerating into a list of things to buy and do, with little thought to how nice it was going to be to relax with people I love in my home. I knew something was wrong when I was at choir rehearsal on Thursday night, feeling totally wiped out, and my eyes suddenly filled with tears. This just wasn’t like me. I mean, despite all that has happened in the last two months, I have generally kept up a good attitude towards life, coming to appreciate good health once again.
Today was a special service at Temple Micah. It was the Torah portion that talked about God parting the waters of the Red Sea so the Israelites could safely cross, culminated by the women dancing with Miriam on the other side. At Temple Micah, this service has become known at Shabbat Shira (Sabbath of Song). It is an extravaganza that brings together a volunteer orchestra of about 25 members ranging in age from 10 to 80, the adult choir (of which I am a part), and the youth choir. As the morning unfolded and I felt carried along by the music and the enthusiasm of the congregation, I felt the darkness slowly lifting. I watched our new rabbi Toby dance through the congregation carrying the Torah. But the culminating piece, When You Believe from Prince of Egypt, which featured the beautiful voice of our choir director’s 9-year-old daughter Leila brought tears of joy to my eyes. The message of the song is “There can be miracles when you believe.” It was so moving that people actually clapped at the end.
I want the miracle of returning to good health. I want to love the many things that I do. I want to luxuriate in the company of the numerous people I now call my friends. I want to especially value my husband as Valentine’s Day approaches. I want to banish sad tears and have only tears of happiness. Is this asking too much?
I don’t know why, but whatever the cause, things that I normally like to do were becoming a chore. And I felt like I wasn’t doing a good job at anything I attempted. My Shabbat dinner for 10 that I had been so looking forward to was slowly degenerating into a list of things to buy and do, with little thought to how nice it was going to be to relax with people I love in my home. I knew something was wrong when I was at choir rehearsal on Thursday night, feeling totally wiped out, and my eyes suddenly filled with tears. This just wasn’t like me. I mean, despite all that has happened in the last two months, I have generally kept up a good attitude towards life, coming to appreciate good health once again.
Today was a special service at Temple Micah. It was the Torah portion that talked about God parting the waters of the Red Sea so the Israelites could safely cross, culminated by the women dancing with Miriam on the other side. At Temple Micah, this service has become known at Shabbat Shira (Sabbath of Song). It is an extravaganza that brings together a volunteer orchestra of about 25 members ranging in age from 10 to 80, the adult choir (of which I am a part), and the youth choir. As the morning unfolded and I felt carried along by the music and the enthusiasm of the congregation, I felt the darkness slowly lifting. I watched our new rabbi Toby dance through the congregation carrying the Torah. But the culminating piece, When You Believe from Prince of Egypt, which featured the beautiful voice of our choir director’s 9-year-old daughter Leila brought tears of joy to my eyes. The message of the song is “There can be miracles when you believe.” It was so moving that people actually clapped at the end.
I want the miracle of returning to good health. I want to love the many things that I do. I want to luxuriate in the company of the numerous people I now call my friends. I want to especially value my husband as Valentine’s Day approaches. I want to banish sad tears and have only tears of happiness. Is this asking too much?
posted by Barbara at 1:48 PM
3 Comments:
I can't believe your boss would ask you what your work schedule is. Tell him/her/it to wait until they have all sorts of issues that need to be addressed by a doctor who happens to have the same business hours as our business.
Also tell that little prick that no one's last wishes have ever been, "I wish I spent more time at work."
You'll feel better as soon as you take some time away from your busy social schedule and get some good, solid REST. Like this morning for instance.
Gulped down my coffee, now I gotta go shovel.
If your blueness was anything like mine, it was without reason, and went away just as unexpectedly as it came.
I hope you feel better.
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