I suppose my previous emotional outburst was unavoidable. I have been holding that in for far too long, and as painful as it was; it was necessary. I was raised to believe that emotion and all that comes with it is not only perfectly natural but absolute necessary to living a full life. There was no taboo or awkwardness involved; after all it was a family dominated by women. We ruled the family on the whims of monthly cycles, and chocolate. Never a dull moment.
Yet, there's me.
I'm a pretty open person, unless it involves having to actually talk about something that is 'emotional' in nature. I don't do emotional. Never have. Maybe that's why I had such a close bond with my Grandfather. He was a totally self-contained man. Strong, independent, and like me, rarely showed open signs of emotion. He was by no means a cold man. The very opposite. I can remember breakfasts on Sundays when he and I would barely eat because of the constant stream of laughter. He was always ready with a hug and a smile, even on the darkest and saddest of days. There was never a lack of encouragement, advice and love.
But....he and I never cried together. Not once. Even when Nana passed.
I would cry and then I would go to Papa, and talk to him or more likely he and I would work in the yard, or watch a game on TV. And that is how I liked it. I didn't have to explain how I felt, or talk about me feelings, because he just knew. No one understood Papa and I. And I loved that. It was our bond. It was something I didn't have to share with all the other kids.
I guess its just how I am, and posts like that don't happen often but when they do....pay me no mind.
The storm has passed.
