Crying over the happy scenes

I am not much of a daytime TV watcher. I am not into talk shows where opinions are offered that I don’t care about. I don’t have a favorite game show, although my mother’s choice would be "The Price is Right." I don’t do soap operas or shopping networks or reality shows with reality stars.

What else is there?

I discovered intervention shows, cheating shows and shows to prove you are the father. I tried cooking shows that don’t make me want to cook, and home remodeling shows that make me feel bad. No way am I watching pimples popping, someone’s autopsy, or surgeries that go wrong.

I just can’t do it.

The holiday season, however, offers up options when you need a diversion to fill your time but don’t know what it is.

You know, one of those days.

I don’t know though — something’s happened. Suddenly, all the sad shows don’t make me sad anymore. When someone dies or a tragedy happens in a movie, I feel bad, but that’s all I can do. Then along comes a show with a happy ending and I fall apart.

What’s up with that?

I tolerate the Hallmark Channel, which seems to have a theme. The shows typically end with lost love from the past, or an orphan finding a family, or people who don’t get along ending up together for the rest of their lives. Sometimes there is a do-gooder in charge of a Christmas fundraiser who ends up stumbling into a prince from a remote country.

Those movies don’t feel real.

Then there are other movies that make me feel something and, typically, it involves tears. Like "Sister Act I and II" — when the nuns sing for the pope and the kids sing in the competition, I need a tissue. I tear up during "Elf," when Santa’s sleigh is powered by people who believe. And "Home Alone," when Kevin is reunited with his mother.

Silly, I know.

I also cry when George comes to his senses and an angel gets his wings. I cry when Tiny Tim makes the best of his life, and when Ebenezer wakes up with a changed heart.

I cry for "Love, Actually" every single time.

It’s not just movies — I sniffle during Christmas carols sung with gusto. I cry reading the words between the lines in letters to Santa, the ones that ask for less rather than more. I hide my tears when I see amazement in a child’s eyes or hear the blessing at the holiday table.

What is wrong with me?

It seems I have everything reversed. I am stoic and straight-shouldered when sadness comes in a movie form but, when happiness enters the picture, it is my undoing. A military mom with a homecoming reunion, an old student visiting an old teacher, a grandparent meeting a grandchild for the first time.

I’m a mess.

A baby announcement, a college acceptance video, a surprise visit from a loved one. A bended knee, a helping hand, a neighbor who has your back. A teacher who gives, a child who believes and a community that stands strong.

Scenes like these do me in.

I don’t know what this says about me. I want to feel all those happy things, and I want those happy things for you too. I want the underdog to win, good news to be shared and everyone’s dreams to come true.

Isn’t that what we all want?

We want to know and connect to joy, even if it isn’t our own. We long to feel the hope in someone else’s healing, the happiness in another’s tears, and the wonder of our spirits soaring on the wings of someone else’s triumph. At the end of the day, instead of opinions and reality, and unrealistic fairy tales that make me feel nothing at all, instead, I choose to fill myself with joy.

Even if it makes me cry.

You can reach Lorry at lorrysstorys@gmail.com.

This article originally appeared on Columbia Daily Tribune: Crying over the happy scenes