I remember my classmate way back in grade school. I was a tall and lanky student who always has a knack for jokes whenever the occasion comes and that classmate of mine had enough of my teasing that he unleashes a powerful right hand straight into my arms. I was quite the whole time and ran all the way to the C.R. crying. Yes the Ryan Gosling “The notebook” type of crying. I never cried since then except for some occasional break ups.
Crying is the cleansing of the soul it is the product of our emotions. Whenever we’re happy, sad and frustrated we cry. The death of Michael Jackson was a shocker then there was Arguello and then Arturo Gatti. A pop legend and two boxing Hall of famers died in an almost simultaneous incident. The world mourns for them having been a die hard Michael Jackson fan who always go to fiestas carrying my cassette tape dancing to the sound of Thriller who eventually became my fiesta ritual until I turned highschool lost the kid in me when Michael died. Arguello who fought his way to poverty and made Nicaragua a name felt like a country full of regrets after he took matters on his own hand and killed himself. Arturo Gatti who made wonders in boxing by fighting Micky Ward to three epic battles and won three fights of the year suffered death through the hands of his 23 year old wife. Maybe his being through drugs and womanizing has taken its toll.
This morning after hearing mass we decided to feed some of the street children roaming around the church it’s nothing new to me since we always have our traditional Christmas in the road but on the way to the office while I was driving I remember the very day my classmate pressed his hard knuckles all the way through my small arms. A child in me saw a small tear slowly dropping in my eyes. It wasn’t about Michael Jackson, Arguello or Gatti it was tears of joy coming from the smiles I saw on the faces of those children. Yep how Ryan Gosling of me… but hey it’s my birthday I cry if I want to.