For as long as I can remember, I have loved to make people laugh. I can’t help it. I come from a long line of jokers–erm–comedians.
In most of my vivid memories of my daddy he is laughing, and so is everyone around him. It was hard not to laugh with his constant antics. I see more of him in me with each year that passes, even though he passed from this life near the end of my 13th year. We are all the poorer for the loss of his laugh. To round out the heritage, my mother was quite a hoot herself. Right up to the end, she was making silly faces and puckering her lips for a goofy kiss.
Perhaps that is one reason I hold so tightly to that gift they left me. Truly, making people smile is one of my most gratifying accomplishments. My memoirs will likely be titled with some reference to laughter.
A sense of humor is a two-edged talent: It can either be taken as intended and enjoyed, or taken all wrong and be misinterpreted. I’ve had plenty of instances of both, and I assure you I much prefer the former.
One day at church as our family sat lined along a pew something struck my mother’s funny bone. If I remember correctly, a mention was made from the pulpit to the effect of “her breasts are like ripe fruit…” after which she glanced down at her chest, leaned over to me, and whispered, “Yeah. Grapes.” She stifled her snickering successfully for a minute or two, but then the pew began to shake–at which point I couldn’t help but join in. The harder we tried not to laugh, the harder it became until finally my husband poked me hard in the rib. Which caused me to burst like a poked balloon and resulted in a mock dirty look from him and a quick duck beneath the view of the preacher for me. By this time Mama’s face matched the crimson aisle runner and I thought she might faint. I still don’t remember how we ever got through the episode without being sent out of the sanctuary like naughty children, but it is an experience I won’t ever forget. Even now when I think of it, I can’t help but chuckle.
We’ve made many laughter memories through the years, like childhood memory sharing time and dinner time family pea fights and Cake Mountain. They are all precious to me, and I hope remembering them will continue to produce smiles for years to come.
There is plenty in this life to make people cry. I guess maybe I just want to do my part in balancing things out. You know, giving people a reason to grin.
I am told pretty regularly that I’m funny. I’m not sure people realize what a great compliment that is to me. Picture my heart dancing around like Snoopy in “A Charlie Brown Christmas”.
Out of the skills I possess, I consider the ability to make people happy one of my favorites.
I make people laugh, and I like that.
Levity is a fine form of love.