When Tears Speak 

17 September 2024

The TV was on in the background the other week. I wasn’t paying much attention, and as YouTube tends to do, a random clip came on, following whatever sporting highlight package I had originally been watching.

I paused what I was doing for a moment as Graham Norton interviewed two very well-known actors, Emma Thompson and Hugh Grant. Amongst the trivial topics discussed was how each actor could cry at the appropriate time when a film scene required it. Emma could more or less cry at will, but Hugh admitted that he couldn’t and would need someone to spray something in his eyes to create the required effect.

Tears are strange things. Apparently, there are three types, the ones that clean and protect your eyes, the tears that flow when you are exposed to an irritant, like smoke or onions (not Hugh Grant), and the third, emotional tears are the ones we often see in our daily lives, and we certainly see our fair share at St Bart’s.

A couple of Friday sago, we heard the sad news of the passing of one of our longtime residents. As the news filtered out, we could see the wave of emotion as it touched staff and other residents. This was one of our most familiar faces, a beautiful, gentle soul who has lived at St Bart’s for well over ten years. He would park his mobility scooter in the same spot in the courtyard each Monday and Friday morning for our twice weekly resident breakfast service. It was a joy to get a thumbs up from this chap to let you know all was well. I came across a friend of his just after he’d heard the dreadful news. He was consumed by grief, the emotional tears rained down his face, heartbroken at the loss of his friend. There are no words that can console someone at that moment, just that it’s ok to cry, let it out, no one judges here, and we all feel the pain of loss.

A few moments later, in another part of the building, we met with another resident, another beautiful, kind, gentle soul. We heard recently about this lady’s story, about her early years living on Country up north. Her mother was a well-respected artist before she passed some years ago. Our resident didn’t have anything material to connect her to her mother. The amazing staff at St Bart’s created a simple mug with a photograph of mother and daughter. We watched as she lovingly stroked the image of her mum. We had also tracked down a piece of her mother’s art at a gallery in the north of WA. When we contacted them, they were touched by the story and gladly donated the artwork.

The small room where we met was filled with more emotional tears, tears of joy as we had the privilege of presenting her mother’s artwork. The intense feeling that this was the most precious thing in the world was palpable. This was something touched and created by her mother that she could now touch and see forever.

The tears we all wept that day come from a spontaneous feeling that touches us somewhere deep inside. We always try to hold onto that understanding, that we all have that same emotional response because we are all equally human, irrespective of who we are, where we come from and what our life circumstances are. If we didn’t have that real, genuine, spontaneous emotional connection and empathy in all we do here at St Bart’s then we would just be a series of buildings, bricks and mortar, storage facilities for people awaiting the next step on a journey without hope.

But our tears are real, not like those of Hollywood’s A list, they come from the heart and speak more powerfully than any words ever could.

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