Karin Brynard writes: It takes a village – like mine

Illustrations Derika Volpi and Paula Dubois • Translation Hettie Scholtz

One thing I just don’t have the emotional tools to deal with is seeing a grown man cry.

Don’t get me wrong. Tears are tears, no matter whose they are. The weight of sorrow comes in equal measure to all of us. And yet, the tears of men are seldom seen. Perhaps they just dam up behind a tough façade. And, once in a blue moon, may spill over at the slightest touch of tenderness.