The first time I ever remember crying from pure joy was when I was eight years old. My family and I had just returned from a stateside summer vacation back to our home in Karachi, Pakistan and I was reunited after 2 1/2 months away with our dog Licorice. That was back when I liked dogs.
It has only happened a handful of times since then, my wedding day, with each pregnancy test, the birth of my son and daughter.
Tears of joy are the best kind although it is a strange phenomenon, water coming from your eyes when you’re so happy you could burst. And to try to explain it to a five-year-old is damn near impossible.
Now that Lola can sit up and I have a fancy bath seat for her, Lucas likes to take baths with his little sister. It is now part of our nightly routine and is adorable to watch. They splash and play with a few bath toys and in the process get clean. Two birds one stone.
The other night Lola grabbed at Lucas’s foot and chewed with her one tooth on his toes. When Lucas pretended that it hurt and screamed out ow!, Lola burst into a fit of giggles. They were truly playing with one another and it was so cute. Then he hugged her and kissed her and told her how much she loved her.
A quiet observer, sitting on the toilet I soon became a sobbing mess. I didn’t even bother hiding it. I never thought I’d see the day.
My two children.
Playing with one another.
Loving one another.
Laughing with one another.
My heart hurt.
But in the very best way.
Lucas never having seen anyone cry from joy before suddenly stopped having fun and with a very concerned look on his face asked, “Mommy, why are you crying? I’m not really hurt.”
“I know, I’m crying because I’m so happy. I never thought that I’d see this, you two together and it makes me… happy. These are happy tears.”
As I watch their relationship develop, something tells me that there will be many more happy tears in my future. And I can’t wait.