I admit it — I cry easily. Joyous occasions bring tears to my eyes more easily than sad times. I don't know why. I find the leakage embarrassing and try to hide the evidence of my emotions. I cry at parades and movies and at basketball games. My son played in high school. I us ually sat quietly, clapping when his team scored and biting my lip with pride when I saw him shake the hand of a rival or help an injured player. If someone spoke to me at those times, I'd just nod. To do more would have revealed my shaky voice and tears on the brink of spilling.
And — of course — I always cry at weddings. I get to the church early to watch the groomsmen scurrying around to make sure their ties are straight and they don't have spinach between their teeth. Unshaven, sweaty, ill-mannered boys in torn clothes are transformed into handsome, polite gentlemen.
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