They say men aren’t supposed to cry.
It goes against the fake American Macho Facade.
It’s a stigma that black men can’t escape.
Well yesterday I cried like a baby.
A hero, a mentor, and friend passed away.
He was one of the pillars of my faith community.
He overcame many obstacles but COVID 19 proved to be too much.
I thought of the life lessons and all of the good times we shared.
I thought of all we accomplished in the life of our community and our church.
The more I reflected, the more I cried.
Then I gathered myself and I turned on the news.
There was the new image of America.
A half Black and half Indian daughter of California to the oath of office of the Vice President of the United States of America.
Again the tears flowed but they were tears of joy.
After 4 years of nothing but hate and bigotry, the image that was completely opposite of it was taking shape.
At that moment millions of women and little girls can finally see themselves in the leadership of our nation.
When I though my emotional quota was full, I get a message that another friend is gone from COVID.
I was all cried out,but my heart wept.
Tears are not a stigma or a dark stain.
They are tiny reflections of the emotions we feel in our soul.
Too many of us had to cry these 11 months.
Hopefully one day, our tears of sorrow will be replaced with laughter.
One day our mourning will be replaced with dancing.
So cry I’d you need to.
Shout if that is what need to make it through.
Our tears will water the fields of harvest that we will have in the days to come.