Laughing

​Merril chose the word from the dictionary this time.  I watched her shut her eyes and turn the dictionary this way and that, so she did not know if the word was coming from the front or back.  I admit I did wonder out loud what was the point of putting glasses on and then shutting her eyes.
But the word her finger fell on was “laughing.”  How come she gets all the good words?  I’m not bitter and twisted though.  I’ll get over it.
Laughing is something I tend to do a bit of.  It is an anomaly really.  My middle name means “stern faced,” yet under this façade is something different.  I know I have been misunderstood once when someone declared “I’m serious.”
Those that know me know there is a serious side to me.  Not everything is a laughing matter.  Yet I think my ability to laugh is due to the confidence I have.
Judging by the popularity of the comedy channel there is a real desire in all of us to have a laugh.  For some it seems an opportunity to forget.  To escape problems and leave them outside for a time.  To me that is healthy.  But for me it is the exact opposite.  It is an opportunity to remember.
I remember hearing someone define why we laugh.  Their take was we tend to laugh at the ridiculous.  I know that is the case for me.  Merril and I often have a laugh at ridiculous things that happen while we are going about a task.  Merril was cutting her dad’s hair.  She did not realize the blade had jammed and wondered why it was so hard.  I will never forget her dad’s comment.  “At least the doctor had the decency to knock me out first.”  When visiting Melbourne we noticed rear view mirrors on a parked limo were pressed in.  Merril said I should tell the driver.  Like a lamb to the slaughter, I did.  He was very polite and thanked me.  When he drove off he pushed a button and the mirrors came out automatically.  We had not seen that before.  Boy did I feel like a country bumkin.
Yet while the premise is the same, I know my laughter is born of something deeper.  Life delivers bad stuff.  I cry.  I get frustrated.  I hurt.  But I do know that whatever comes my way is temporary.  In a sense having a stoke could have been the end of the story.  Yet for me it is not an end but a new beginning.  I will never be glad it happened, but it changed my direction for the better.  Good can come from bad.  Besides this is only temporary.  One day the limiting factors of a stroke will be a thing of the past.
Until then I can just make the most of what I have, and I prefer laughing to crying.