My sister in law died of lung cancer treatment recently.
I found my silk "funeral tie" (a sign of getting older that it has been declared that), dressed in my suit and best white shirt and arrived at the church with my mother, younger brother and his wife.
I have been to other funerals in recent years including that of my -3 month old nephew and my best friend's dad. So, I knew what to expect.
The vicar started with the usual Christian bullshit (appologies to believers but I have to be honest) and I started to get rwady to hear the tears. I was sitting away from my immediate family, including my widower brother and his son, and near my cousin's daughter -- a loverly young lass who, I think, thinks of me as some dull old stand-offish weirdo. I expected the girl to cry.
What happened, instead, was that my eyes started to tear up in a way that only the crappest drugs and the hottest chilli have done before.
I was alternately standing and sitting, as these CofE things do, between a kid I used to babysit for and a woman I'd never met and I was sniffing like a coke-head trying to stop my nose running with cry-flem.
I never did let go though, unortunately, and wish I had both taken tissues and been man enough to just cry.
In his speech my nephew told us that she didn't want tears apart from at her funeral. I wonder whether I shall ever mourn the wpman who took me to school when I insisted I didn't want to go and who taught me the manners which have both saved my skin and allowed me to have some good experiences.
TL;DR: Manning up means not being reluctant to cry when you need to.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Fri 2 Aug 2013, 19:26, 3 replies)

Gay

( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 2 Aug 2013, 21:59, closed)

^
Got a good point, here.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Sat 3 Aug 2013, 0:41, closed)

I am not gay!
I'll have you know I never listen to Barbara Streisand or Bette Middler!
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Sat 3 Aug 2013, 8:31, closed)