Tears of Joy

Emotions got the best of me when Shawn Johnson won the gold on the beam earlier this week. I felt happy for a kid who has worked so hard and had so much determination to be the best she can be. I admire that in people, but especially in kids.

But this blog isn't about her determination, her drive or achieving a dream. It's about her parents. When I saw her dad burying his head into his crying wife's shoulder so no one would see him cry, that's when I lost it. I wasn't blubbering, but there was no stopping the tears from streaming down my cheeks.

I've cried for my daughters' smiles and joy. I've choked back quite a few tears so they wouldn't see me. They wouldn't get it, really. They have caught me on a few occasions, and that's okay. Like when Leia played with the youth orchestra on the stage at Severance Hall for the first time. She knew it that night, but by 16, she figured out that I was a sap. I choked back a few the first time I saw her playing with the Volta Sound on a dirty stage in a dingy club. The place didn't matter. She was doing what she always wanted to do and loving it. Watching Kileigh brush her favorite horse, Jack, could do it. She would talk to him and pat him while she tacked him up to ride. She took control of taking care of him before and after her lesson, and that was heartwarming to me, because she was a kid whom many people said she lacked control of herself. I knew that wasn't true, by the way.

I could hardly contain myself when we gave Kileigh her card that announced she was going to horse camp for her 12th birthday and when Leia shared that she played "Stars and Stripes" while she watched the Olympic torch pass by in Australia in 2000. She played the piccolo solo, something else she dreamed of doing when she got her first piccolo.

I've cried over watching them open presents, read out loud, looking like cherubs while napping, playing piano, and on the first day of school for almost their whole school careers; waiting for a bus or for me to drive them to the sitter in their new shoes holding their new lunch boxes with anticipation on their faces for the new school year.

Parents do that when their kids are happy. It wasn't about being rewarded for their time and sacrifice, mortgaging their house three times to support Shawn. It was about feeling joy for their child because she was happy.