Humor

-

Yesterday, I was asked to say a few words to the Alzheimer's Walk Group assembled here at Saint John's. Because I lost both my father, in 1991, and my husband, in 2025, to this treacherous disease, would I give a personal experience comment or two. Here's what I said. "Maintain a sense of humor and remember, in their heart, your loved one still loves you." 

The truth is, I didn't always have a sense of humor. I was a skinny cry baby. I was teased about my crazy eye and was something of a recluse. I never quite fit in with the 'crowd' and decided I preferred being alone. Childhood memories are often blurry, as are mine, but I know I was a wanted, unhappy child. I pulled my hair tight into a ponytail so that every strand was straight against my scalp, hoping that would help me fit in with the group somehow. Of course, that didn't work.

Somewhere in the middle of my teens, I decided to laugh, instead of cry, when things didn't go my way. It wasn't a conscious decision that controlled my actions. I don't believe we can talk ourselves into a particular behavior. But when a response to many situations doesn't seem to work, our psyche steps up and says "ENOUGH ALREADY."

I think that's what happened to me. I got tired of crying because things didn't go my way. I stopped expecting myself to be perfect. I laughed at my myriad of mistakes instead of feeling embarrassed. I learned to understand the benefits teasing offers and to enjoy the shared laugh. I abandoned the notion, "Why me?" and replaced it with "Why not me?" I'm just one of the crowd. 

It's true I've survived a lot of turmoil in my journey. But quite honestly, my sense of humor has saved my life. I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Me, Somewhere in 1984, 5, 6 or 7

Comments

  1. AnonymousSeptember 19, 2026 at 6:15:00 PM CST

    Thanks so much for sharing your experience and wisdom about sharing humor.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Thank you for leaving a comment

Popular posts from this blog

Life as a Single

-
Image
This is the first year in my entire life of 82 years that I have lived alone, having gone from my parents home to my marital home. In 1964, a 'nice girl' lived with her parents until she got married. What's interesting to me is what I've learned about myself and my marriage this past year. I have some OCD in me, perhaps more than I'd like to admit. I eat the same breakfast every morning and follow something of a routine. I play the five New York Times games as I eat my cinnamon raisin toast and drink coffee. Even though I can stay up late, eat chocolates to excess, binge watch a show until I'm dizzy, I stay to a regular schedule, much the same as I did when Steve was with me. And I like my apartment to look well groomed at all times, but I'm likely to shove papers and magazines into any available drawer if company is coming over.  I used to think we lived according to Steve's plan, that he was the one who made the decisions about vacations and travel, re...
Read more

Slowing Down

-
Image
I've always loved entertaining family and friends in my home. For nearly twenty years, I prepared dinner for seven people almost every day of the week. Then there were the dinner parties for twelve or the buffets for twenty. I've lost track. But I do remember putting together menus, standing in the kitchen for two, sometimes, three hours. Never gave it a thought. I don't remember complaining, so I know enjoyed it. I was a pretty good cook. No complaints except on the nights I was trying to use up leftovers creatively. And everyone remembers the brussel sprout cranberry disaster during Steve's vegetarian days. This past weekend, I prepared brunch for eight people, my daughter and son-in-law along with wonderful friends and two of their grandsons. Simple meal really of smoked salmon, bagels and a noodle casserole. And yet, I found the entire undertaking challenging. I planned my grocery store trips carefully, mixed up the noodles the day before, baked it that morning, set...
Read more

Finding a New Path

-
Image
I'm not fond of the word widow. To me, it conjures up black robes, wrinkles and sadness. It's not synonymous with the word crone or wisdom, both of which I embrace wholeheartedly as the true inheritance of a woman who has lived well and past her prime. But I was searching for a word that might describe a woman who had recently lost her husband or partner; a person such as myself.  A grief group was not for me. Just the title depressed me. Between my son Ben and husband Steve, both of whom struggled for a long time with a fatal disease before their deaths, I'd had years of grief in my life and was looking for a way forward, through, and out of that heavy burden. Newly Single Women's Group is the phrase I conjured up to create a support group for those of us searching for new paths in our ever changing world. Being alone is not necessarily lonely, but it does require care and creativity. I wanted to know how others were managing this strange new world of singleness. What ...
Read more