I remember when I first saw my mother cry. The only words were her telling me that her childhood best friend passed away. Being as young as I was, I couldn’t understand her pain. All I could focus on was how unsettling it was to see my mother sob. As she cried, the world didn’t make sense. The rock in your life isn’t supposed to show such vulnerability! As a parent, you want kids to see you strong and steady, and tears would only put a crack in that image for them, right?
If we measure strength in holding back tears, we’ve got it wrong. On Tisha B’Av, I wonder what my kids will think if they don’t see me cry. If I go all day kvetching about caffeine withdrawal rather than tearing up over Eicha, won’t my kids think I’m disconnected, and the day is nothing more than “one more holy day?” So, I let the tears fall. I show my children that it’s appropriate, meaningful, and critical to cry. That we must express our sorrow, to cry over the cause of our pain, to understand why we need to be strong in the first place.
