Tear Soup

 

So this is a book that I found that is more than amazing.  It talks about healing and the time that it takes and how each and everyone one of us heals differently and for a different amount of time.    Some can smile through the pain some need lots of extra time some don't even cry at all because its all been taken before.  There are so many reasons for why a person heals the way that they do, it is what it is.  And yes sometimes healing can even take years. I think there are different levels of tears, and things that you realize even later that still make you sad.  I think there are some sadnesses that will never totally go away.  We grow we learn to be happy again but there is just something there that we can't totally explain.   So here is the Story Tear Soup by Pat Schwiebert and Chuck DeKlyen Illustrated by Taylor Bills.  If this story touches your heart I say go buy it and read it and cry and if you need to call me, because I heart your heart. Know that someday you will feel better, I mean we have to someday, we just have to keep going.

TEAR SOUP

 

 

There once was an old and somewhat wise woman whom everyone called Grandy.

 

She just suffered a big loss in her life.  Pops her husband suffered the same loss, but in his own way. 

 

This is the story of how Grandy faced her loss by setting out to make tear soup.

 

 

For many years the custom of making tear soup had been forgotten.

 

As peoples lives became more rushed they found it much easier to pull

 

"Soup In A Can" from the shelf and heat it on the stove.

 

But several years ago Grandy got a taste of a well seasoned tear soup.

 

One of her friends made it from scratch when her child died.

 

As soon as Gandy tasted the rich flavor of that carefully made soup ,

 

She promised herself never again to assume that quicker was better.

 

Because of her great loss Grandy knew this time her recipe for Tear Soup would call for a big pot.

 

With a big pot sh would have plenty of room for all the memories, all the misgivings, all the feelings

 

and all the tears she needed to stew in the pot over time.

 

She put on her apron, because she knew it would get messy.

 

It seems that grief is never clean. People feel misunderstood, feelings get hurt and wrong assumptions

 

 are made all over the place.  

 

To make matters worse, grief always takes longer to cook than anyone wants it to.

 

And then..........

 

Grandy started to Cry.

 

At first she sobbed.

 

Sometimes she wept quietly.

 

And sometimes when she was in a safe place where no one could hear her...............

 

She even wailed.

 

Grandy knew she had to make much of this part of the soup alone.

 

She learned from past experiences that most people don't like being around tears. Her friends would

 

worry if they knew just how many tears Grandy's recipe called for this time. 

 

So, the old and somewhat wise woman reflected on her own special recipe as she looked down into

 

the large overflowing pot of memories.

 

It was a task she would repeat many times during the next few months.

 

Grandy winced when she took a sip of the broth.

 

All she could taste was salt from her teardrops.

 

It tasted bitter, but she knew this was where she had to start.

 

And for now, it was the only think on her menu.

 

There were things that Grandy never wanted to forget.

 

These included the good times and the bad times, the silly and the sad times.

 

With her arms full of memories, Grandy made many trips to the kitchen.

 

One at a time, she slowly stirred all her precious and not so precious memories into the pot.

 

But eventually she ran out of things to add.

 

Grandy's arms ached and she felt stone cold and empty.

 

There were no words that could describe the pain that she was feeling.

 

Whats more, when she looked out the window it surprised her to see how the rest of the world was

 

going on as usual while her world had stopped.

 

Her Grandson, Chester, who just wanted Grandy to be happy hoped, that his chocolate drops would

 

make her feel better.

 

Mrs.Bloomklotz, Ms.Chadwick and Mr. Long, all brave yet fearful neighbors, dropped by to see how

 

Grandy was doing.

 

They filled the air with words, but none of their words took the smell of tear soup away.

 

Grandy was gracious because she knew how helpless her friends felt.

 

They wanted to fix her, but they couldn't .

 

All Grandy really needed from them at that moment was a knowing look and a warm hug.

 

There were also days when Grandy hungered for a thoughtful ear.

 

Sometimes she would ask total strangers .

 

"Care to join me in a bowl of tear soup ?

 

" No thanks," most would reply. " I don't have time for tear soup today."

 

Even some of Grandy's friends hurried past her house and pretended not to notice the aroma of tear

 

soup coming through the open door.

 

Grandy found that most people can tolerate only a cup of someone else's tear soup. 

 

The giant bowl, where Grandy could repeatedly share her sadness in great detail, was left for a few

 

willing friends.

 

"I'm here," Midge cried. "I got here as fast as I could and I'll be here whenever you need me.  

 

What a tragedy. 

 

I am so sorry that you are having to make such a big pot of soup."    

 

Oh what a relief. Grandy knew that she didn't have to be careful what she said around Midge.

 

Midge wouldn't try to talk her out of anything she was feeling.

 

And Grandy could even laugh and not worry that Midge would assume Grandy was over her grief.

 

"Sorry I couldn't get here sooner," Said Midge

 

"No problem," replied Grandy. "I've had plenty of help. But most of these friends will be history

 

pretty soon. They'll be over my tragedy long before I am.  But I know that you will still be around."

 

"I don't know what to say, but I'll be glad to listen," Midge said Tenderly .  "C'mon tell me all about it

 

while we make some bread to go along with your soup."

 

These two friends who had shared a thousand laughs and just as many tears, pounded at the bread

 

dough together.

 

"I feel like I'm unraveling." Grandy Cried.

 

"I'm mad. I'm confused. I can't make any decisions. Nobody can make me feel good.

 

I'm a mess. I just didn't realize it would be this hard."

 

"Why don't we go for a walk while we wait for the bread to rise." Midge suggested.

 

"I know exercise is supposed to help me but I feel like I have concrete blocks strapped to my legs.

 

We'd better not go too far or you'll have to carry me home." moaned Grandy.

 

Mrs. Cries-a-lot called and reminded Grandy that she has been making tear soup for years

 

and would be more than glad to come right over and show her how to make it the correct way.

 

"Thanks, but no,"said Grandy.

 

"This pot has my name on it."

 

Grandy knew better than to let Mrs. cries-a-lot or anyone else tell her what she should do to get

 

through this terrible loss.

 

Next her recipes called for some comfort food.

 

For Grandy this meant mashed potatoes or ice-cream. Comfort food always makes you feel better--

 

at least for a little while.  It gets past that big lump in your throat when other foods can't.

 

"I think I need some chocolate too." After all, it was her soup.

 

Grandy kept attending worship even though she was mad at god.

 

Sometimes she yelled at God and asked Why this happened. And sometimes she demanded to know

 

where God was when she was feeling so alone.

 

Still, Grandy trusted God, but she didn't understand God.

 

She sensed that people believed that if she really had faith she would be spared deep sorrow, anger

 

and loneliness. Grandy kept reminding herself to be grateful for ALL the emotions that God had given

 

her.

 

On some afternoons people would ask questions like,

 

"Is it soup yet? "  or

 

"How long is it going to take? You have been at this for over a month now. Its time to get out of the

 

kitchen."

 

Grandy fumes at the caller's advise.

 

Grandy looked forward to getting the mail each day. She dreaded the day when no more sympathy

 

cards would come.

 

When she was alone and needed to think she found it helpful to keep notes on her soup making.

 

Thank Goodness Grandy and Pops have been married a long time.

 

They already knew each other's tear soup would be different.

 

Secretly Grandy wished pops would put more flavoring in his soup, but he doesn't want to. 

 

And he's perfectly content to dine alone and sip his own soup.

 

Making Tear Soup is hard work.

 

Sometimes it was all that she could think about. Even the things Grandy used to love to do, she didn't

 

have the energy for, nor did she care about anymore.

 

Some of Grandy's friends over the years had not tended to their tear soup. Their soup boiled over and

 

the pot scorched.  What a mess. It took them a long time to clean up their pots and to start over. 

 

The smell of burnt soup still lingers in some of their homes.

 

Grandy knew there were times when she needed to take a break from her soup making.

 

Even though it was hard to do, she forced herself to get away.

 

Grandy heard that a neighbor was having to take her turn in the kitchen.

 

Some people thought that the neighbor was eating too much tear soup.

 

So Grandy being old and somewhat wise woman, called and invited her to a special soup gathering

 

where it's not bad manners to cry in your soup or have second helpings.

 

Soon the thoughtful cooks sat at Grandy's table and discussed the process of making tear soup.

 

There are some parts that require help from Friends and some parts you just have to do alone.

 

They shared stories about soup making they wouldn't dare tell anyone else for fear of being judged a

 

bad cook.

 

They all laughed knowingly when Grandy remarked, how on days when she was day-dreaming while

 

driving, she was glad that the car seemed to know where she wanted to go.

 

These people had become Grandy's "new best friend's."

 

One day Grandy and Chester were going for a drive, Chester asked,

 

"Mom says that you've been making tear soup. What does she mean?"

 

"Well, tear soup is a way for you to sort through all the different types of feelings and memories you have when you loose someone or something special. Remember when your baby brother dies right before he was born and your mom sat for days holding his blanket and weeping? She was making

 

Tear Soup."

 

"You made tear soup  yourself by acting out your own disappointment when you shouted at Jason, wishing that his brother would die too."

 

"Remember when Billy's dog died and he didn't want to play with you? Not feeling like having fun is one of the ingredients of tear soup, also."  

 

"And remember when aunt Meg got divorced and they had to move? There was a lot of tear soup simmering in that house."

 

"Some days when you're making tear soup it's even hard to breathe. Some days you feel like running away. You just hope a better day comes along soon. And then comes one of the hardest parts of making tear soup,"

 

"It's when you decide it may be ok to eat something instead of soup all the time."

 

The next morning as Grandy was cleaning up, Chester asked her if she was making tear soup.

 

"Well, I don't think that you actually ever finish. The hard work of making this batch of soup is almost done though. I'll put the rest in the freezer and will pull it out from time t time to have a little taste."

 

"So what else have you learned by making tear soup, Grandy ?"

 

"I've learned that grief like a pot of soup, changes the longer it simmers and the more things that you put into it. I've learned that sometimes people say unkind things, but they really don't mean to hurt you,"

 

"And most importantly, I've learned that there is something down deep in all of us ready to help us survive the things we think we can't survive."

 

"Grandy, you know so much. What will I d after you die?"

 

"Don't worry, I will leave you my recipe for tear soup."

 

  

 

So yes, I love this story.  I found it in the clearance section at Half Price Books and didn't even read through the entire book it was just one of those things that I picked up and I got home and read it and I cried and cried. I am better but still working on my very own tear soup.  Not many people stay, that is for sure but here I have a few special people and that is truly all that you need.  There are times that I can put the soup away , and there are times that its out and there are more ingredients that I need to add.  I realize that my tear soup has been a work in progress but its the progress that is a good thing.  There will always be tear soup in my life because of the magnitude of things that have happened. I need to know and understand that its ok for others not to understand, and to stay away, that is just how it works.  I will keep working, and try to be gentle on myself when it seems my soup is going to boil.  I would rather see it and acknowledge it and take gentle care of my heart, then become cold and pretend that I am fine. It seems that lately, I have been adding to my soup, new things that I have yet to understand, but I am working. So from my healing heart.  I don't ask you to know or to understand or even accept my tear soup but at least be gentle and kind its my soup .

 

 

 

I heart your heart.