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Jack Small

This I Believe

I Believe in Tearjerkers

They say that its a sobering moment when you first see your dad cry. The moment is supposed

to bring about the realization that your parents are neither immortal nor immune to sadness. These

were not the thoughts I had when I first noticed my dad crying. In the theater with my dad and sister for

Pokmon: The First Movie, I was more confused than anything. I was only five years old, my sister was

eight, and the theater was packed with kids our age, yet my dad was the only person I noticed who was

at all emotionally affected when Ash sacrificed himself to save Pokmon everywhere.

Considering my dad became overly emotional watching a childrens movie, you can imagine how

easily he cried at actual emotional movies. It wouldnt take long for me to realize that I inherited my

fathers emotional sensitivity when it came to films. There were countless times when both my dad and I

would be sobbing terribly watching a movie, unashamed of the noticeable tears falling down our faces.

It was another of our bonding activities, really. We played catch, we made each other laugh, we cried

hysterically. Our tears helped to forge together a relationship that needed to be strong. My mom

suffered with addiction problems throughout my childhood, so she was in and out of rehab. My sister

and I didnt see as much of her as developing children should, and my dad had to make up for that. He

did as amazing a job as anyone could, and our crying sessions were a major part of that.

When my Dad was involved in a motorcycle accident in late April 2009, my eyes were

completely dry. I did not cry when the doctors took back their initial optimistic reports, when they said

his condition was worsening, nor when they told us he would not come out of his vegetative state. I did

not cry when I openly stated I was all for pulling the plug, and effectively ending my fathers life. It

wasnt until about 20 minutes before the doctors would take my dad off life support that I felt anything.

I asked for a moment alone with my father. Thats when it all came out. I cried like Id never cried

before, releasing all the sadness, hurt, and disbelief Id been holding. My inability to cry earlier wasnt a

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show of strength for my family; instead I could only cry in front of my Dad because it was one of the

many bonds that held together an incredible father-son relationship.

The first movie my Dad and I cried together was watching The Notebook. When I felt the tears

start to flow about halfway through, I tried to hide them from my Dad. I sneaked a look over to him, and

saw that he was holding his head high with tears streaming down his face. I never felt the need to hide

who I truly was ever again.