Posted by guest blogger Mary Tribble.
I have always been the crier in the family. Growing up, I cried every week when Gilligan and the castaways were stranded yet again on their tropical island.
On the other hand, I have seen my mother cry on only a few occasions. The time I remember most was when my piano teacher chastised me for not practicing enough. My piano teacher’s words barely fazed me, seeing mom cry as a result stung hard.
If you rarely see your mother cry, the few times you do are memorable.
When my father died about 18 months a

