I try not to be a sentimental man these days but sometimes it is just part of us we cannot deny.
I watched a series called, MANIFEST on Netflix. The series had me throat lumping at times but I pushed it away. I could see that that is how the writers had written it. To try to trick the viewer’s eyes and hearts into shedding a tear or two. I felt proud of myself that those writers had not been able to cast their sobbing heart spells on me.
I will not go through the plot of it. You can look it up on IMBD. It is a show that could have been and to some extent was religious. But also mixed with mythology and mystery. It had HEART. Forgiveness and Redemption. Good and Evil. So many ages old themes mixed together. The show had been canceled after 3 seasons leaving people that loved the show hanging. Then through popular uproar and demand, it was brought back for a 4th to tie all the loose ends together and give it a good conclusion.
The last episode arrived and I fought back tears of joy. I had predicted some of it but not all. I had hoped for some things to happen and they did. I unashamedly wept in the last few minutes and sent a hug out back in time to all those that had been a part of the making of that series. Writers, actors and all. There was a final loving moment that had me feeling like cheering and laughing and crying. I just broadly smiled, choked a little and wept.
It felt good…so damn good and it answered a big question I have had about my physical, mental and emotional self: “Can I still cry?”
Yes, I can and did.
To cry for JOY and not for grief.