"April Showers bring May Flowers" as the saying goes. Then the month of June thunders its entrance in a torrential downpour. Figuratively, of course. No other month has the potential to create the greatest emotional turmoil than June. It's the month of brides and graduates; it holds pride for accomplishments and hope for the future. It matters not if I personally know the "vision in white" or the one carrying the diploma. All it takes is to hear the music and I become a sniveling mess.
When Wagner's
Bridal Chorus (Here Comes the Bride) is performed as the bride makes her entrance and all turn to see, the on-switch for the waterworks display clicks. The featured one could be wearing a beautiful designer dress or one made of duct tape. It doesn't matter. It's the music and the symbolic meaning that make tears well in my eyes every time I hear it played (and those tears usually spill down my face uncontrollably).
It's the same when I attend graduations. Who knew
Pomp and Circumstance could be so moving? I'm determined each and every time not to shed a tear. I'll stand without blinking for as long as my eyes can take it (the zombie/not enough sleep/under the influence look), then the lids close in relief and the dam breaks. It's probably a good thing everyone is dressed the same as focusing is a bit difficult at that point.
And why is Pachelbel's
Canon usually included as part of the wedding music repertoire? Johann Pachelbel's little ditty creates emotional issues for me. Perhaps it's because my older daughter is a violinist (or fiddler, depending on your preference) and was classically trained for a dozen years. She performed Pachelbel's
Canon so often over the years that she could play it in her sleep (I probably could too since I heard it just as much, and I don't play a musical instrument). It is one of those pieces that will always cause me to turn nostalgic simply for the association to my child. So the probability of tear duct action is great.
In all fairness to the season, the calendar doesn't have to indicate the month of June for a song or event to induce weepy eyed syndrome. Simply standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. with its historical significance is emotional. The same can be said about visiting a National Cemetery and viewing the simple uniformity of the landscape. I have grandparents buried at one, so it may hold a little more significance for me. Didn't John Denver sing, "I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly" in one of his songs? Well, seeing an eagle soaring freely is one of those touching times for me and the eyes get a little misty.
Hearing the lyrics to
Auld Lang Syne (attributed to the Scottish bard Robert Burns) creates an air of wistfulness for some reason, as do the July 4th celebrations when seeing fireworks synchronized to Tchaikovsky's
1812 Overture, particularly if performed by the Boston Pops. (By the way, Boston has to be the most patriotic city to visit for Independence Day, but that's for a future blog post I think.)
So June has its moments of sentimentality, perhaps more than the rest of the year, but the other eleven months are not without the need for a hanky on occasion. It doesn't mean I'm a blubbering simpleton. I suppose I just get carried away by the emotion and meaning. Innocence, new life, hopefulness, pride, patriotism, honor. These are words that evoke feeling and meaning to life. They should stir something in most people. Some of us just feel a little more deeply.
