Recently, I came across an MP3 of the blackbox recording of my Dad's flight going down. He was the co-pilot. 150 some people died. I heard him say, "We're going down, Jesus Christ!" and then an enormous boom. I could not fight the tears back.

It was numerous years ago.

LaSalle bon Dioxide wrote:Recently, I came across an MP3 of the blackbox recording of my Dad's flight going down. He was the co-pilot. 150 some people died. I heard him say, "We're going down, Jesus Christ!" and then an enormous boom. I could not fight the tears back.

It was numerous years ago.

wow, that's heavy.

The last time I can recall flat-out weeping was when a dog of ours died about a year and a half ago.

Since then, there have been small moments: my wedding, learning my wife was pregnant.

The moment that still chokes me up is this:

Last summer, my wife and I trained for the marathon. She had run one once before, but this was my first. I found the training difficult, but I made it through the runs and felt good about everything. Then, with 2 or 3 weeks left until race day, I injured my right leg. I had completed two 20-mile runs during training and wasn't about to give up. I visited a podiatrist, bought new shoes, and stopped running. I did low-impact cardio, hoping that I would be able to bounce back in time for the marathon. Two days before the marathon, I went with my wife on a simple 2-mile run. Slightly over half-way through, the pain became so bad that I had to stop. That was it: marathon over for William.

I felt utterly gutted. Before the marathon, the sponors hold a giant event at the convention center, where runners pick up their numbers and timing chips, check out new energy drinks/gels, look at shoes, etc. It was very, very difficult for me to stay positive at that convention, because I so badly wanted to be able to actually run the race.

But during the actual race, I was very happy for and proud as hell of my wife. We decided on several meeting points, where I would take photos and pass her graham crackers and a gel pack. It was, I have to say, an inspiring event: thousands of people cheering the runners on, etc..

The last place we decided to meet (before the finish line) was near the race's end, around the 25-mile mark. While I was waiting for her, I saw a beaming, fairly young (maybe 30 years) runner approach the finish, wearing a white shirt. This chokes me up so much to think about that I just had to close my office door: on the shirt was written, in huge letters, "TAKE THAT, CANCER!"

LaSalle bon Dioxide wrote:Recently, I came across an MP3 of the blackbox recording of my Dad's flight going down. He was the co-pilot. 150 some people died. I heard him say, "We're going down, Jesus Christ!" and then an enormous boom. I could not fight the tears back.

It was numerous years ago.

Oh man, ben...

There is a picture of my dad and me on my first birthday that I can't even look at because it will totally break me down. He died on 1/17/06. Actually I'm a little warm in the face right now just thinking about it.

For no discernable reason whatsoever, my pretty girlfriend and I were watching The Blues Brothers on Comedy Central yesterday afternoon, and, for no reason at all, tears started to well up in my eyes during the church scene with James Brown and the choir, etc...

I dunno... when everyone started dancing, i had to force the tears back into my head. Luckily, the girl didn't see... I don't know how I could have explained it...

It's been about a year since I've had a real cry, and that was when my wife and I began to suspect (and later had confirmed) that our son is autistic. When I first started to suspect it, I felt a somber sense of acceptance. It just seemed true. But eventually, the fear and uncertainty welled up and I lost it. By the time he was diagnosed, I had already come to terms with it and it didn't hit me as hard as it might have had I been in denial.

I've since learned a tremendous amount about the disorder, and I now know that although an autism diagnosis is never easy for families to hear, it's also not always a tragedy. In our son's case, it is not. He is mildly affected and will likely do well when my wife and I are no longer around.

Of course, doubts and worries persist... but that's parenting for you.

I has been a very, very, very long time since I cried. many years. in fact, I can't even remember. man, i sure could use a could heavy sobbing.

Last week.It`s a bit silly...
I was thinking about all those girls who died young in the middle ages.I guess It must have been pretty hard to live in the dark ages,specially for women.Now they are dead and forgotten...

pittsburgh about three years ago. i got way too drunk. i don't remember crying at all, but everyone tells me i was bawling in the back of the van about how everything was "too easy". we had to cross back into canada that night after the show and the rest of the band was worried that i was too drunk to cross peaceably, and that i would somehow cause problems with the border guards. so we had to spend like two hours parked at a convenience store some thiry minutes outside the border while they force-fed me tomato juice until i was sober enough to stay quiet.

prior to that, grade three. i was sitting down under this tree and this loser kid named donald was about fifteen feet above me in the same tree. he was using a triangle-shaped rock to pick caterpillars off the bark. i was just sitting there with little caterpillars falling all around me when donald dropped the rock and it hit the top of my head and i started bleeding everywhere.

Last time I had a full on weep was about three years ago when my girlfriend was diagnosed with breast cancer. Having to call all our friends on the phone and let them know because she just couldn't talk. Got an email from my stepfather later that night that told me to stay strong for her and not to let her see me cry so she wouldn't think I was scared. I cried over the keyboard that night while she slept in the other room.
That was the last major cry. Welled up at my sisters wedding a few weeks ago, but that was just because it was getting dusty.