Not the big cry. Not the ugly cry. Just the tears that have been on the edge of my eyeballs this entire month. I need May to be over.
I haven’t written much about my daughter’s senior year of high school. I’ve read so many posts from moms who have gone through this before. I hear the collective sighs of motherhood as their children graduate and a new season of life begins. I want to be a big girl and hold it together. But, like most moms I know, the month of May can bring an ocean of emotions laced with salty tears.
There are many things I will not cry over. I will not miss signing permission slips. I will not miss the daily request for money to buy the must-have t-shirt or another entry fee for a music contest. I will not miss booster club meetings where we need to sell a million candy bars to fund new uniforms. I won’t even miss calling the attendance office when I need to check Courtney out.
But there are many things I will miss. I will miss the mass of students who show up in my living room at 10:30 p.m. to watch a Thunder game. I will miss watching Courtney play volleyball. I will miss hearing her sing the National Anthem. I will miss the moans of AP Calculus homework and the madness of mornings as she hurried to be at school by 7:30 a.m. each morning.
Graduation is just one more reminder that time passes quickly. It’s a reminder that the lives of women are in constant transition. It’s a reminder that we need other women in our lives who walk this journey with this. It’s a reminder to enjoy every precious moment and every stage of life.
So why am I crying this morning? Yes, the graduation is over. But today I’m mourning the loss of another’s woman daughter–a 16-year-old precious girl who was well-liked and at the top of her sophomore class. Last night we received the devastating news that she had taken her own life. Her older brother graduated with Courtney on Sunday evening. What a difference a day makes. One day a celebration. The next, the unspeakable grief of a tragic loss.
The longer I live, the more I am aware of the hurts women experience. It’s crucial that women minister to each other. You may not have a professional “women’s minister” on your church staff, but we are all called to ministry. We are called to love each other through the joyous occasions and the grief. We are called to pray for each other, to offer ourselves as servants and to walk alongside each other as we journey together.
I think Jesus understood this about women. Women anointed Him with their tears. Women comforted each other as they gathered by the empty tomb. Women served Him in their home. Jesus even wept with Mary and Martha before raising their brother from the dead. In short, Jesus knew we would need each other during the times we need comfort. He knew that our journey was to be shared with others.
Maybe God is calling you to cry with someone today. Just don’t forget to bring a box of tissue.