There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.
From Washington Irving
In the time I spent in recovery and in specialized treatment for PTSD, I cried.
Ugly cried, actually.
It was exhausting and redemptive.
The tears burned my skin and stole my breath.
And in those tears, I told the story of my broken heart.
In the telling, my heart was made whole.
In five days, we honor the 21st year since our crash. We, none of us, ever forget, but we can heal and be made whole without guilt or apology.