‘Former’ Mr. Tough Guy has this epiphany: Real men cry, and older, real men cry more

I’ve been warned many times, by many good men.

Get ready: As you age, things change, man.

It’s the little things; nothing dramatic or all at once. Inside and outside.

The music’s too loud. Where are my keys?

Yep, that’s an ear hair. You can’t throw a baseball or golf ball 20 feet across the fairway. When did that happen?

You see photos of yourself and swear you are your dad.

As years pass, one of the biggest changes I’ve felt is the additional, spontaneous moisture in my eyes.

Could be allergies, but sometimes my chin quivers a bit, too.

Yes, tears.

I’ve become Dick Vermeil.

I’m realizing why older men get handkerchiefs for gifts. Forget your nose. The handkerchiefs are for our eyes. Stick one in your pocket. Trust me here.

I watch Facebook videos of soldiers returning home and greeting surprised family members. Or dogs being reunited with their owners. It hit home this week when my daughter greeted her Navy husband at the airport after he was deployed for many months. Then there was video of their dogs mobbing him when he got home.

Yep. Tears.

Grandson born.

Kurt Warner movie?

Simba goes into Hall of Fame, finally.

Any TV commercial from St. Jude’s or a children’s hospital.

Where’s that hanky?

Hallmark holiday movies? Not yet, but who knows by next holiday season.

What happened to Mr. Tough Guy?

Fact: Real men cry, and older, real men cry more. The biggest change is the stage of life has arrived when we don’t care who sees us.

I’m realistic about aging. You become more reflective about life. Can’t stand cold weather. Watch TV Land more than Netflix. However, I was not ready for increased eye wetness.

There may be logical, medical or psychological reasons for tears. A quick Google search offers unprofessional reasons like eye infections, hormonal changes, depression, anxiety, social isolation, medications and health issues. COVID may not help, either.

For 60-plus years of my life, I seldom had wet eyes. Sure, I had my private moments. Funerals. Births of my children. Blues’ playoff losses. Nowadays, wet eyes are more common.

I’ve learned it’s not always allergies.

I remember, in the late 1960s, going to Scott Air Force to welcome home POWs. I looked over at my grandpa. Glasses fogged. Nose running onto his top lip. Gramps was a mess. But he could have cared less if anyone, including his grandson, saw him.

After all these years, I get it.

I only remember seeing my dad cry once. It was the late 1970s. Mom was in the hospital. He was scared. She recovered. Dad was a private guy. We never talked about it. We didn’t have to.

I find myself with wet eyes while watching ESPN 30/30 or SC Featured documentaries. Jim Valvano. Handicapped athletes. Wounded veterans. Old friends reunited. Rivalries. Rehabilitation.

I did fine at both my son’s and daughter’s weddings. Sentimental, sure. Tears, nope.

I got choked up when Stan Musial died. Same for Gibson and Brock.

Same thing when an old friend gives a toast at his daughter’s wedding.

Laugh, think, cry

Looking at my old family photos. Everyone looks so young. Many have passed on.

Where are those old handkerchiefs from Aunt Marie?

My favorite quote is on the wall of my work office and home office. It comes from former college basketball coach Jim Valvano, who once said “ ... If you laugh, you think, and cry, that’s a full day. That’s a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you’re going to have something special.”

Laugh. Think. Cry. I’m still laughing and thinking a lot more than I’m crying. But it depends on the day.