Funny is one of my jobs these days and so I am spending a lot more time than I ever have really thinking about humor. What does it mean to have a sense of humor and when is it appropriate, or more importantly, when is it inappropriate to use humor as a tool, coping mechanism, or diversionary tactic? Or is it ever? The world is a complicated place filled with lots of reasons to worry, feel sad, or get angry - so why not just laugh instead.
When we first started dating my now husband and I spent a lot of time laughing and picking on eachother. He didn't always know where the line was and had made a reputation for himself as the guy who could say anything and everyone would love him for it. That's a skill - not getting punched in the face. Sometimes he would cross over into inappropriate territory...sometimes...try most of the time.
One day we got a call stating that my grandmother, who had lost her leg to diabetes, was in the hospital, again. So we went over to visit. Now Keith hadn't spent a lot of time in hospitals in his life - for me St. Mary's hospital in Richmond was kind of like a second home - so my wisecracking man went from being irreverent to respectful and even demure in a split second upon entering the hospital. I guess that was the line.
Never knowing what to expect we walked into her room quietly and found Bubbe in her bed napping with the T.V. on. I walked to her bedside and put my hand on her arm. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at us. I kissed her wonderfully soft cheek and said "Hi, Bubbs" as I usually did. She said "Hi darling," Keith piped in with a quiet "How 'ya doin'?" to which she replied "Well, the doctor says I'm on my last leg,"
Badump bump ching.
She made these jokes all the time. Were they to mask the pain? Probably, no one wants to lose their leg at 66 years old. No one wants to suffer with ill health. But what she did was put everyone at ease with humor - including herself. There is often nothing we can do about where we are - the time for preventative action has passed, so to accept our station we find the funny.
In my family, we pay hommage to the dearly departed, or to the impossible situations in life, with jokes. Some people find this inappropriate or disrespectful. I respectfully disagree. In life we are charged with making our closest confidants people with whom we share fundamental similarities. In other words surround yourself with people that get you, and inspire the greatness you possess and forget about the rest. (I will now step down off of my soapbox)
When my husband's father died suddenly on the evening of September 11, 2002 while jogging in the park with his wife - we were all left unsure of how to make sense of it. Even now as I write this nearly 8 years later - it's difficult to find the words to describe the shock of that phone call informing my husband that his father was gone. It was seven months before our wedding. It's unfathomable to me that he's missed all of these amazing milestones, weddings, home purchases, businesses, the birth of 5 grandchildren, and so very much more.
Yet, when I think back to the time immediately following his passing there is a warmth that I cannot explain. It is when we are faced with such unbelievable and unfortunate circumstances that we find out what our relationships are really made of and what the people we love are really made of. My husband is my hero.
They honored his memory with parties - and not just one. There was one in Richmond and one in Virginia Beach. There was a memorial and an "Irish Wake". There was drinking, and laughing, and telling stories. Everyone remembered this remarkable man, flaws and all, with joy, love, and lots of good wine. Just the way he would have wanted it! And those were just the big parties - not including the times that we, the family, just sat around laughing, drinking, and telling stories about ice cream and hammers and the time that the children nearly fell off a mountain so that he could take the perfect picture of them climbing it. These stories remain at the cruxt of the man's legacy - they are told and retold with surprise and awe that some stories never grow tiresome.
My father-in-law was not a religious man so it was a quandry just how the memorial service would be done. Who would preside and what would they say? Somewhere in the whirlwind of planning, consoling, contacting, writing obituaries, and making burial arrangements - with several days of sleep deprivation - it was suggested that I lead the memorial service because I "used to be an actor" - which made perfect sense to everyone. Ok....
So with great trepidation I took on the task of leading the memorial service for this man whose funeral was standing room only. He was truly loved. I blubbered my way through and introduced person after person who felt compelled to speak in honor of his memory. It was a magnificent experience although not the way I thought - seven months before my wedding - that I would have been meeting my husband's extended family and his parents' friends. A old Yiddish proverb, or Woody Allen, once said "we plan, and God laughs" that is so very true.
“We are all faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.” Charles Swindoll.
