This evening my husband came home and found me sitting outside the house on the swing. I was wearing pajamas and sunglasses, crying because life is hard and I am sensitive and the two are ganging up on me.
Many of you will have heard of a love tank, I would think. If you haven’t, in short, the idea is that you have a metaphorical tank in which family and friends pour into by bringing love, support, goodness into your life. I wonder, though, will you have you ever heard of a tear tank? I only ask because this weekend I was compelled to think of mine, and how very unendurably full it had become. Maximum occupancy full. Don’t think I could have fit one more itty bitty tear in there.