I went over to Tom and Lori’s last night to help them with some last-minute packing. When I got there, Lori handed me a small bag with my name on it. “We got this for you at the State Fair.” What you need to know is that Lori and Tom love the State Fair as much as I do. We usually meet up once or twice a year, although we don’t spend long periods of time together, as we like different things. They love to shop in the Grandstand and Lori loves to sit through lots of radio shows. Oh and she loves Math on a Stick.
When I started to open the little bag, I said “this isn’t going to make me cry, is it”? They both said no but as you can guess, it did make me cry. A little rock with the Chinese character for friends. It’s exactly the kind of item that I would never acquire for myself but will now keep forever.
So we cried a little last night and I’ll go home mid-day today to wave goodbye as they depart the neighborhood – so probably some more tears at that point too. Remind me to take tissues.
What can make you tear up?
Trail Baboon 
I wept yesterday while watching the final scene from Alma Deutscher’s magnificent opera, Cinderella. For those who don’t know, this is Alma’s first opera (not surprising since she was 8-12 years old when she composed it).
In the clip, Alma plays the organ, stage left. The flower girl is played by her younger sister, Helen (who is still acquiring her adult teeth). Helen has a nice moment at 5:48.
Although I’m hardly a fan of opera, this clip triggered a gush of tears from me. When a staff member rapped at my door, I had to talk to her while tears still flowed.
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I cried so hard when I saw a Toy Story 3 that I almost made myself sick. And it didn’t help that we saw it in the middle of the day so I had to come out of the theater into daylight all red and blotchy.
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I tear up all the time. I rarely tear up at work. There I have this invisible armor that allows me to hear just about any tragic or awful thing without reacting. Outside of work, I tear up watching tv commercials, singing in church, reading aloud to my grandson, you name it. I had to repeatedly practice my readings for the Lessons and Carols service we did in December because I kept choking up when I read them aloud. It is annoying.
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I would have been surprised–even shocked–if you said you cry at work. That would be difficult for the client, so of course you don’t.
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I’m like Renee – just about anything can set me off. I teared up at Judi Dench’s last poem in Cats last week. (I really enjoyed it – have I already said this? – and recommend it to those who ignore The Critics).
Especially music – there are songs I simply cannot sing without weeping a little.
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The State of ND provides my agency with tissues that feel as though they are a product of the coated abrasives division of 3M. I stock my office with tissues from home so people who cry can have tissues that don’t disintegrate or chafe.
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I have worked in placed with those Kleenex—really scratchy and ineffective. People crying hard with copious fluids, blow through those and are left with fragments of paper. Pretty yucky.
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Rise and Shine, Baboons,
I am a born crier. Sentimental cards, Hallmark TV shows that I do not even like, stupid movies, books, and manipulative TV ads all can bring it on. Like Renee, I don’t cry much at work—I can put on my armor there. But every other place is an invitation to tears. Many years ago I stopped wearing mascara, which made it much easier to cry at will without streaking my eyes and face.
There was a 90s era book, “The Bridges of Madison County,” that made me cry hard, while at the same time I knew it was written to manipulate emotions. It actually enraged me that I could see that manipulation and still dissolve into tears all at the same time.
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What causes me to cry runs the gamut from extreme joy, through pain and sadness, to red hot rage. I’m more apt to cry from frustration and anger than from a maudlin film.
I have cried over the utter devastation of the Australian brush fires and the millions of animals that have been lost in the flames. I have also cried from joy holding a baby, or a tiny kitten or puppy. Beautiful music may cause goosebumps and the occasional tear, as can a well written piece of prose. I have a hard time making it through the last page of Truman Capote”s a Christmas Memory without choking up.
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Oh yeah, Christmas Memory did it for me too. And A Separate Peace by Knowles.
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I knew I had found my tribe.
I can also be set off weeping by walking through the Art Building during the State Fair – I am completely blown away by the things painted/produced by fellow Minnesotans, people that I may simply pass on the street in any given day…
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I also get teary whenever I hear “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, since it reminds me of Daighter’s Suzuki violin years.
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I got teary just thinking about it while I typed my comment.
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There are some books and stories that reliably make my cry. Oscar Wilde’s The Happy Prince and Paul Gallico’s The Snow Goose will do it every time. Movies too – I can never make it through Fiddler on the Roof<.i< without crying.
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Annatevka, for one.
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Also this scene from The Sixth Sense gets me every time. Although I know it’s designed to do that, and I’m a little embarrassed to fall for it…but Toni Collette starts to cry, and what do you do?
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I’ve never had a dog, but I sometimes tear up when I clearly see the relationship between a dog and it’s … best friend. And those videos where an animal is helping another animal, or a toddler comforting a crying baby.
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my sister was laughing at me a while back saying you’re just like dad crying at the moves
i love crying at the movies
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Awe
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