Channeling Grief
What Do Your Tears Say About Your Grief?
The Meaning Behind Your Tears
When my son Henry was killed in an accident in 2022, I willed myself to physically collapse, but I could not. I pictured scenes from tragic movies where a mother drops to the floor. But I never broke down in the convulsive wailing sobs I imagined. Instead, I shed silent tears that barely mussed my eye makeup. Even months later, I was waiting for the ugly cries. They never came.
I worried that I was failing at grief.
Ad Vingerhoets and the Biological Signal of Tears
I recently found the work of Ad Vingerhoets, a psychologist who wrote Why Only Humans Weep. He suggests that the way we cry is a biological signal. Loud sobbing cries are a distress flare. They indicate the emotional nervous system has overridden our physical control and send a message that we cannot handle our sadness alone. We need immediate rescue.
I’m not sure I agree with this assessment. After I learned that Henry had been killed, I was absolutely in need of rescuing, despite my lack of tears. Grief was a loud, unwelcome guest—like the policemen knocking at the door or the white flowers and deli platters that filled my living room. Of course, there is no way to rescue a bereaved parent. No one can bring their child back to life.
If I was managing to control my tears, it was the only thing I was controlling. I couldn’t regulate my body. My brain wasn’t functioning. I wandered the house in a tennis skirt; I don’t play tennis. I tried to mother a son who was no longer alive. I questioned my ability to protect the rest of my family from whatever disasters awaited us.
Silent Tears: Integrated Sadness
Vingerhoets goes on to explain that silent tears reflect a more internalized, quiet sadness. While a person’s grief may be profound, they are able to carry it. They don’t need a life raft, just empathy.
Three years later, I see the truth in this. Silent tears still come at times, when I think about everything Henry is missing or when I listen to my Temple’s choir.
My sadness isn’t a crisis to be managed. It has simply become an integrated part of me.
What have you learned from your tears?
Over the years as a hospice volunteer, I would often get family members say how they felt inadequate or questioned their love for the individual because they were not expressing themselves like the others. They looked to me to help them understand this which I could only offer vague reasoning or say "people grieve in their own ways". Your explanation here goes a long way to help me understand this (mainly because I cannot control my tears). Thank you.
Very true. People grieve in different ways. Sometimes the tears are silent and sometimes they come out when we are alone and no one can see or hear them. Thank you for this. Sending love 💗