100% Chance of Tears
My emotions runneth over.
I can barely process the immensity of it—the destruction from Hurricane Helene. While much focus is on the hardest-hit areas of western North Carolina, I try to focus my thoughts and prayers on those within our own state who have lost everything, who are without power, and who have been devastated or downed in some way.
Living in a flood-prone valley myself, I have an innate fearful respect for trickling creeks and streams that can quickly grow into torrents.
The tears of horror I hold back when watching the videos and photos that emerge daily as more families are reached sneak out in other moments, like weddings, church, and of course, any emotional moment in a movie, television series, or commercial.
The loss and devastation so obvious in the narrow Appalachian valleys stirs up the ephemeral aches I feel about other losses like the loss of youth, the loss of cultural dignity and honesty, the loss of elders or friends, the loss of the world as we knew it.
Add in anger, frustration, worry, and dread about the upcoming election no matter who wins, the disgust at the fearmongering and resentment of those who endorse it...
Is it no wonder that during the melancholy season of autumn, I might be more prone to tiny temper tantrums and an inopportune production of tears?
I’ve learned that when we feel the weight of the world upon us, there’s no purpose in hiding from it. I say, wallow. Wallow in the misery of the human condition, in the loss of youth, dignity, and all sanity. Process and feel that fear of raging rivers with the power to bend steel and erase all signs of civilization.
I hereby give you permission to wallow — but only for one day.
I bake brownies and spend a day eating chocolate and watching movies that make me cry. The last movie of the day is always “The Notebook,” which just wrings me out like a sopping mop. And then I take a long, hot Epsom salt bath and put myself to bed for a night of sound sleep.
World Mental Health Day 2024, was Oct. 10th. I did not read any suggestions or recommendations for wallowing, and I can understand that. One of my favorite saying is “You can wallow around in the mud, or you can stand up and walk out of it.”
But there is something to be said for a day of wallowing, brownies, a box of tissues, and movies that make you cry.
Hang in there. Wallow if you can. And then, get back to business.
In July, I began adding posts to TLR online throughout the month, pulling from the archives of Two-Lane Livin’ Magazine, and adding local articles and opinions from Calhoun County to compensate for the miserably biased local media.
This month, we begin a new series featuring West Virginia’s Rosie the Riveters, reflecting interviews done by Anne Montague with women who served our country this way.
The first WV Rosie featured is Jessie Jacobs-Frazier, Anne’s mother.
I do hope you enjoy this new series exclusive to Two-Lane Renaissance, and these additional stories and articles.
