This memory came up in conversation today:
When Lewis was about 7, we were driving to St. Louis and a sad song came on the radio. The song made me cry and Lewey asked why I was so sad. I told him I wasn’t sad, the song on the radio was just making me teary.
“Why don’t you turn it off then?” he asked.
So I did. So simple.
In the same year came another profound lesson from my son. Lewey was playing basketball with a team and he had gotten hurt during a game. He told me after that he had wanted to cry but was worried about what people might think. I wasn’t completely sure how to handle the situation, but I told him that he shouldn’t be afraid of, or ashamed of, his tears. If he was hurt and needed to cry, it was ok. He replied:
“Yeah, but what if coach sees me crying and makes me sit on the bench? Then I won’t get to play.”