What are tears for?

I believe many people have either asked or contemplated this question. I do not know for sure why we have tears. I think I learnt in school that tears help clean our eyes… I am not sure if I was told that or I am making it up but I have that information in my head somewhere. True or false, I am not sure exactly why we have tears. If it is to clean our eyes, then why do we have to cry or laugh before we can clean our eyes?

Today, I attended the prize giving and school graduation ceremony in the school my kids go to… none of them was graduating but hey… they are moving from one class to the next. I always go for the graduation ceremony in this school because I like to see the young kids celebrate the completion of a phase in their lives and declare their readiness to go to the next one. It is always so touching.

So today I was there and I was crying all the way. First, we had little celebrations in each class, celebrating the different strengths of each child in every class. That was great. It was an opportunity for the teachers to ‘show off each child’ it was not about academics only… it was about everything and anything good in each child.
I do not want to mention that when the teacher talked about my older son I cried and wept and wept and it was all about how good he is and of course how they will miss him because he is not coming back next session to that school.

Then it was time for prize giving and graduation ceremony. When my son’s name was mentioned for a prize I teared up… I was very happy right? So I cried… interesting. Then came the time for the graduating students and their teachers and them I started crying again. I had to leave because I was making a mess of my well applied mascara…

I got home and I was still crying about everything… the prize, the speeches, the songs and then I asked myself what we were given tears for.

Honestly, I am not sure when my tear tap is supposed to be opened… I read books I weep, I see movies that I know are sheer acting, I cry. I get a good present I cry. My son does well in school and gets a prize I cry. I have a miscarriage I cry. I have a healthy baby I cry. I witness an accident I cry. I see the homeless I cry. Someone is in pain I cry. Someone gets a miracle I cry. I watch my children sleeping peacefully I cry. They are sick I cry. Did I mention that my son is leaving for school in a few months time and I cry just thinking about it?

Strange Summer Dream

Last night, I had a very strange dream. I hardly dream (I mean dream while asleep… the one when awake… I dream endlessly), I only dream when I have malaria or when I am thoroughly drugged up in the hospital like after a surgery and I am on my way back to consciousness.

So I had this strange and weird dream… not sure how I got into the aircraft or where and when we boarded but we landed and we were on our way to some hotel (have forgotten the name now) in Dallas. Please how in the world would I be headed to Dallas? I had never thought of Dallas as a special place to go (and that is not to say Dallas is not a great Texas city… it really is). I have no friends or foes in Dallas that I think of. I have a long listing of places I want to visit in the world and so many cities in the US I want to go to but Dallas is not one of them (maybe because I have already been there about 12 or 15 some years ago).

Anyway, here in my dream, I am in Dallas with my boys in toe. We are to go to our hotel and who is there to take us in his bike? Some British soccer player looking happy and ready to chauffeur us on his big bike and I said “Oh you look familiar”. Familiar indeed!!! As if I knew him from adam and as if I see his like everyday in my life offering to drive me around town. So as I said “Oh you look familiar, my older boy said “mummmm” with much emphasis on the last m as if I am embarrassing him, I turned towards him and said “yes” (as in what is it now, can I not talk?) And he said “mum, this is Owen”. Then I said “E hen”! Indicating that now I recollect… I know the guy. So we all jumped on his bike and headed to the hotel.

Not sure what happened after that (must have sleepily woken up to feed the baby his milk) because the next time I knew what was happening, we had reached the hotel only the soccer player was not with us and right there at the reception, they asked us who we wanted to see (because maybe the likes of us did not stay in that hotel). Again, I would not remember his name so I said “that British soccer player” and the lady laughed and said “Owen” and again I nodded in affirmation as if “yea who else?”. She immediately pointed to the pool area where Mr Owens was basking in the Dallas summer sun. I looked and smiled…

I did not immediately head towards the “British soccer player” but decided to look around the reception which was very crowded with lots of people coming and going. As I looked, there was a cousin of mine who lives in the US so I walked up to her and she was very surprised to see me. She said she had no clue I was coming to the US and I said even me I had no clue I was coming too… how true!!!

When I woke up, I had a good hearty laugh. So this must be my own summer sizzle from own very bed in Lagos, Nigeria… with the British soccer player who I guess I should be grateful came to pick me up from the airport as he captained England to the woeful world cup outing. Since I am not in the hospital under heavy sedatives (thank God), I must be coming down with malaria (please God… no malaria a beg)… only now that I think of it, I wish and wonder why it was not rich and handsome David Beckham or even young and rich Cristian Ronaldo in his red Ferrari…

… guess that will be for the next summer dream… for now, Owen will do.