The story
Twenty-three years ago, three little boys aged 5, 3.5, and 2.5 lined up near the brick fireplace in the small, cottage in Washington State. The two year old, sat in an empty 5-gallon grey bucket. He loved climbing into it and pretending to hide from me. His brothers would laugh. All four of us laughed. Not your everyday boring variety of laughter.
Our laughter was tear-provoking, doubled-over laughter.
Each one of the boys took turns stepping onto the ledge as if the fireplace became a stage. Silly songs, antics, and dances came from each of the boys as they vied for the funniest one of the bunch. Humor helped us get through tough experiences.
How did we end up on the brick fireplace and acting like hilarious impromptu comedians?
Some history
For three years, my health deteriorated to the point of seeking a Naturopathic doctor in Portland, Oregon. He recommended some special drops to help my body recover from the high amount of allergies, which afflicted me for years. Food allergies, mostly and cats. However, I was okay with the cat allergy.
My neighbors adopted my two furry kittens. The hardest was giving up bread. The good news? I was not allergic to bananas, sugar, and carrots. Sweet! I remember thinking positive! I can eat sugared carrots atop creamed bananas…wonderful..Not.
Most of my days were spent dreading my children’s father coming home. We had a strained relationship. He worked. I wasn’t valued. I was a woman, in the home, raising kids. I wasn’t bringing in money, therefore, I wasn’t essential. I didn’t matter nearly as much as I longed to matter. The days of feeling unnoticed continued to blur my view of life.
My health paid the price. Internalizing my pain, I just dealt with the family and the stress over time. I didn’t have an outlet and my life revolved around my sons. I wanted them to thrive.
I loved cooking, baking, and playing with them every day.
During the time I was in Washington, I was pregnant with my fourth son. My health was not improving, and I experienced a near miscarriage. I had to stay on bed rest for three months. My body was stressed to its highest potential.
The church where we attended, had a Fibromyalgia group meeting I started attending. My body hurt often, and the diagnosis of Fibromyalgia plagued me. The internalized angry and emotional drought took its toll.
I visited the group a dozen times, the leader, a pastor who also suffered suggest we watch comedies. I was pretty religious back in the day, so comedies were out, and I didn’t know how to laugh at one even if I saw it.
He asked me, “When was the last time you laughed, Pamela?”
The question haunted me. For the next few weeks, I heard the ladies in the room next to us laughing and having fun. The Fibromyalgia group, well, they were depressing.
Everyone talked about pain. As someone with chronic pain, I understood. Except, each week, I was worse for going. Finally, I slipped out of the room, knocked on the lady’s group and they welcomed me in with open arms.
They said, “We are the eating disorders group” and I said, “I think I have an eating disorder.”
You see, the week before, I watched Oprah. Her show was on Eating Disorders and the scene was a hospital in Chicago, with a teenager who was dying due to E.D. The show listed symptoms and I sat up from my prone position on the couch. My heart began to beat weirdly.
Some impressions of my life started to make sense.
Photo by Becca Tapert on Unsplash
Back to the group
From the moment of introductions until six months later, I attended each week and bonded with five ladies. Bulimia, Anorexia, some who vomited, some who restricted, and all who laughed their way to healing.
My kids and I watched Oprah from that point on, and we saw a show on laughter as a healing modality. Hence why we stood up and began humorous antics to get each other to laugh.
We laughed together.
The memories we created have lasted for years.
My sons have a crazy sense of humor. Twenty-five years later, they laugh, encourage laughter with each other, and have fond memories of the days when laughter was healing. Movies like The Emperor’s New Groove provided us with a lifetime of quotes.
Memories and laughter
As I read the Spiritual A.F. cards tonight, a quote on laughter struck a cord. The memories we hold inside are vast. The storehouse of stories fill the mind.
Small, inconsequential acts of serendipitous moments create chances to write. The stories we share encourage others who have walked a painful past or a difficult present. Some way we share brightens the world for those in need.
However, we miss many opportunities to laugh. The chance to find the humor (without using it as deflection in relationship issues) creates an avenue to bond with family and friends.
Even with the unknown person, some humor can lighten the temperature.
Laughter with strangers
The rows of Lysol were completely empty. Another woman, pushing a cart nearby, stopped. We both stared at the isle. The pandemic has changed how we shop, how we interact, and how we process life.
Humor helped us get through tough experiences.
A few moments passed. Finally, I shared, “Under normal circumstances, you’d find the rows of Lysol packed and probably out-dated. Now, when you need a can, just because you do, not ‘cause of a virus’, and bang, everyone bought them.”
We laughed together in understanding and agreement.
Life has changed our perspectives. A moment in an aisle in Walmart helped us cope and release some of the stress we both felt.
Germs and bacteria are one thing, viruses are another. Even though we have lived with all three for years, the attention has been focused on how deadly a virus can be once it is out of control.
As we continue to find ways to protect ourselves and our loved ones, may we also remember humor is a tool to implement and encourage?
To laugh is to live life fully present.