She watches what I do, even when I’m not watching. It upsets her when I’m upset.

I have no desire to hide how I feel, and I also don’t want to upset her.

Here’s the thing: sometimes I cry when I’m happy. How to explain it to a five year old?

They say there are no tears in heaven. And yet I cry happy tears so often. SO often.

What’s up with that?

I have a theory. It’s the tension. It’s the lingering aftertaste of the memory of how things were once (recently? Long ago?) NOT beautiful and happy.

The half life of the hunger as we are now at a full table. I am at a full banquet, why did I once go without? How could both these things have happened?

so I am pulled taut and the tears spill over.

what if all the memory of lack in heaven is not painful? What if we see everything as making sense? what if the ironic tension is relieved

And so, when I find myself tearing up before my beautiful and curious daughter, I think “why remember the bad times? I can enjoy the right now thing and not need to cry. Here we are and let this fill my heart.”

I am not sure that covers the ground. i’m going to keep working on this theory.