During the Victorian era people would save their tears from the funeral of a loved one and store them in a lachrymatory. This week, I wished and wished I had one of these bottles. Day after day, my hot, puffy eyes labored to produce copious amounts of tears. If only I could have saved them. Surely they are valuable.

First, why did I cry? Small things. Large things. You be the judge.

I am off from work and on a special project.
At least a quart. I don’t know if they were joyful tears or sorrowful. Maybe just clear your eyes tears. Should they all go into the same bottle?

My boss packed up my office so now I am in storage. I am nowhere. In between. Limbo.
Several gallons at least.

Being tired from crying, but still oozing at the eyes.
Well maybe that only resulted in a cup. Fatigue lessens output after all.

Talking to my grandbaby in Australia through Skype.
These were the best tears. Joyful, loving, crazy tears. Please, I want more of those.

Walking the dog tears. Even though his ashes sit on top of the computer, we still do the dog walk every night. It always starts fine, but as we round the turn and head up the hill, tears flow like little rivers in the darkness. Is it the wind? The cool air? Missing the pup? Still? It has been almost a year.

Can’t sleep tears. Oh well.
There is nothing like waking up at one in the middle of the night crying. No way to catch those unless I tape a bottle to my face. Maybe I could start a business with this one. Maybe not.

Remember dad tears.
He has been channeling lately and my step-mom will call to be sure that I am ok because it is surely upsetting him. So before each tear, “I am ok dad. Don’t bother Rae. Don’t bother Annie. I will survive this. It is not so bad. Drip, drip, drip.

Tears that drain through your nose. Gross. Don’t need to deal with those tears. Sniff them up and pretend they were never there.

But now I have all these tears, then what do I do with them. Recycle, Reuse, Reduce. I wish I could reduce right now.

Uses for Tears:

Send them off for a DNA test. Are they really my tears? Which ancestor gave me so many tear genes? Why can’t I be a stiff upper lip person?

Give them as gifts. Excellent choice for those who already have everything, especially those who need some heart. Maybe you know someone who could use some.

Toss them in the ocean. They can team up with my dad’s ashes and travel the depths together with him. Share the adventures he experienced during his last five years.

Flush them. Signifies that they were a waste of time. Were they a waste?

Drink them. This would fuel up for next time. Ah next time. It is sure to come. Time to strap that lachrymatory to my face.

Works not quite Cited

Nick Knight   “Why do we cry? The science of tears.”  http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/health-and-families/features/why-do-we-cry-the-science-of-tears-9741287.html