The girl who cried. Full Stop.
If you’ve ever sat on your unmade bed slumped into a shape like a letter ‘C’, if you’ve ever hit your foot on the bottom of a chair and messed up your toenail polish, if you’ve ever spoken sharply to your kids and then found out that they were innocent, if you’ve ever run out of money, run out of time, run out of patience…
If you’ve ever been too hot, forgotten to drink enough water, stopped exercising for a year… If you’ve ever put your head down on a concrete floor and given up, only to peel yourself up and continue washing dishes a few minutes later, if you’ve ever been late for dinner or paying a bill, if you’ve ever sighed overly loudly and then been caught peeking to see if anyone noticed…
If you’ve ever been so bored your teeth hurt, if you’ve ever looked at the days before you with dismay, if you’ve ever looked at your face in the mirror with dismay, if you’ve ever made a bad hair decision, if you’ve ever bumped your head really hard and then cussed and then felt bad because you just happened to be on camera, if you’ve ever blamed people just to make yourself feel better, if you’ve ever been a blamosaurus rex…
If you’ve ever had a cough for days and days and days, if you’ve ever broken a tooth on popcorn, if anyone has ever found glass in your food, if you’ve ever looked at crafting blogs and despaired, if you’ve ever woken up and realized that you are pretty sure that you are totally mediocre,
well, the following story is for you.
Once upon a time there was a girl who lived in India, and she was a girl, but she was also a mother, which means that if she was having a bad day she wasn’t allowed to lock her bedroom door and refuse to come out. (It’s just kind of one of the rules, if you’re a girl and a mom. Also if you’re just a mom.)
So this girl who was a mom was having water problems at her house again, and she had a couple of wise friends who had spent a lot of time in the mysterious land of India. These friends told her, “If you want to get anything done, you have to get mad!” The girl wasn’t at all sure that she could be angry to someone, but she thought she’d give it a shot. So she called her landlord, (again) and she said, “Listen, I just can’t live this way anymore. I’m spending all my money to send my laundry out, I can’t cook, we can’t bathe. This is ridiculous!”
She didn’t sound angry, but she did succeed in appearing rather pathetic. And she learned from the landlord that all had been done that could be done, and nothing more could be solved with the water crisis until the monsoon. They would just have a little bit of water, each and every day.
And this is what happened to the girl: she pulled one sleeve until it turned inside out, and the other sleeve until it just tore right off her shirt, and then she hopped on one foot in a circle, and then she turned red and then she just began to weep. The water thing was taking too many thoughts, and the thoughts became bumpy, and the thoughts were not smooth, the way she liked her thoughts to be. And the children had grown fangs.
So she cried. She sat down on the floor and cried and cried, and soon all the things that were sad but that she hadn’t cried about (because she was a girl AND a mom) were filling up her head and demanding that tears be dedicated to them too. And then the neighbors began to line up and write small things on pieces of paper, things that needed to be cried about, and then the internets joined in, and the girl who was a mom wept until her tears formed their own clouds and a great storm came. The great storm turned into a great monsoon and after a few days, the water came rushing into all the tanks in the village.
All the villagers were very happy, plus they’d had their sad things cried over, and so they bought the girl who was a mom a bathtub of her very own, so she could soak her old feet in it and then rub some nice smelling lotion into them.
And it was all because the girl who was a mom had let herself cry. (There’s no rule against it!)
The End
23 comments
Is this a true story? Sounds like you were having a really, really hard day! Sorry about the water – that would be so hard to live without. Everything revolves around water, so I don’t know how you do without.
Lots of love,
There are times when there is no other option then a good cleansing cry. There’s no rule, indeed.
Heidi
I find this so interesting – do you think it really cleansed you, both psychologically and physically? Maybe getting it all out really allowed you to be free of all the stress and angst….. I hope I don’t ever get to that point, but if I do – I’m going to do the Journey Mama cry! Glad you’re feeling better.
I’ve never understood that piling up and crying over everything, but it happens to me exactly that way. It seems it would be easier just to cry a little at a time.
I’m thinking we’re having monsoon weather right here in southern Indiana. Your thoughts will be the encouragement I need to try and appreciate it better.
Thanks.
Oh wow, who would have thought that your life in India could be a parady of my life here in the states, wow. Of course, the water thing isn’t the same, but I can sooo relate to your story, especially the kids growing fangs! Glad you got your own tub and had a good cry…I think I need another one.
Sometimes a good cry is incredibly cleansing, much like a bath.
I hope this story is true. Not the part about you being so sad and angry, but the part about the notes and the bathtub.
“And the children had grown fangs” needs to be on a poster on my wall. Yes, this was a story for me. Sending hugs and watery thoughts your way!
My friends in Kathmandu are having water issues as well. Soon enough the monsoon will come and I look forward to reading your post in a few months about how everything and everyone is always wet. Then we’ll look back on these dry days and be thankful for them too
Fantastic little children-s book this would make! Crying is good.
You are super hard on yourself. I am not sure you have the ability anymore to see it objectively, but this life you live is remarkable. The half of you that is filled with wanderlust must be completely at odds with the part of you who is a mother…I can-t help but think that women are programmed biologically, once we have children, to be in one place with as many make-it-easy nesting comforts as possible–whatever that translates to for our culture and who we are, certainly water is on everyone’s list. I cannot imagine what a constant struggle it is to reconcile the two halves of you.
Anyway, if you ever illustrate that adorable story, please put it on Lulu or some other such site and I will order it for my daughter. It is adorable.
Oh Rae, I heart you. Your blog (filled with your heart, with your thoughts) is seriously such a treasure to me. You have changed my life with your honesty, with your keeping-on. It is inspiring to me that you are just another women (another mother) like so many of us, with the same thoughts and dreams and fears and despairs and tantrums so familiar to so many of us, that we thought we were holding in secret, that there was something wrong with us and just us, that we couldn’t possibly go on. You have named it, brought it to light, and I thank you for it. I know it takes much, much courage to speak all the deepest things of your heart and put them out there for anyone who wishes to read. But I am glad you have. Sincerely, B
Rae,
I love your happy endings.
Take care!
I didn’t cry like the girl in the story. I shed a few brief frustrated, I’m just giving up tears, and then I got over it and went about my day.
But I started a story in my head about a girl who started the monsoon with her tears.
And at the end of the day I was reading a blog that was so beautiful and so opposite from my life, and I curled into that ‘C’. But then I got up and wrote my story.
This is a perfect ‘once upon a time’ story for all of us mom/girls.
Thank you so very much for taking the time to share your words.
I can SO relate…who can’t? I love how it feels like it could be part of Kiplings “Just So Stories” which were also inspired by India.
How I love this story. And at our first house in Mauritania, we went 7 months without water. Our landlady lived in the Canary Islands. It wasn’t solved until she came for a visit and YELLED (in Arabic, which helps) at the water company.
Then she left and the water company came and took our meter so we had no water OR electricity and we yelled (in French) but they just laughed at us. We did eventually get it solved.
Then I got giardia. Which helped me lose weight, so it wasn’t all bad.
edj! SEVEN MONTHS! oh good gracious. you poor thing.
now this is some dang good reading rae.
I cry a little,or alot almost every day. depends. sometimes I look in the mirror to see what I look like as I’m crying. remember doing that when you were little?
I wish I could share my water with you.
Oh, Rae, you could never be mediocre! I think you are amazing. But I am glad that you are normal and just like the rest of us.
Your writing is so beautiful!
LOVE IT! LOVE IT! LOVE IT!
Did you really get a bathtub??????
Blessings,
Sandwich
Once again, just spoke to my heart. Does it make you feel better to know that I got an e-mail from a friend tonight with the title, P.S.
The message was three words, “I love JourneyMama.”
As do I friend, as do I
I would love to have this in print as well…to share with my daughter who is 11 and living at the whims of her burgeoning hormones. If she would just learn to have a good cry now and then, our household would enjoy a much more drama-free existence. Sigh.
i love your story. i hope the monsoon comes soon. it is very late this year. of course, i can relate to a certain extent, having lived in dharamsala. the monsoon was not late, but so heavy that the water mains broke, and we were without water. how could it be raining in torrents and yet we were without water? anything is possible in india. and there are the planned power outages too. we were without electricity every day from 8-10 and 5-7 (or something like that), just when one wants to be cooking breakfast or dinner!
Thank you for this story–I just came out of a 3-day migraine. Now I had not tears to fill up water tanks (BIG SMILE) but I think, just maybe, something will come of it all just the same.
HUGS! And much Love to my favorite family in India!!
Your blog brings happiness into my life at the very moments I need it.
Remember it is our ordinary mundane gotta wash the little hands and the dishes dayz that make us who we are–and that is very far from ordinary.
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