The Medicine that is Laughter

There is nothing quite as cathartic, body healing, heart filling and soul lightening as laughing with your love.

Recently while watching television shows that Left Brain and I both enjoy, I like to watch him more than I do the shows.  

When it is just Left Brain and I alone in the house (we’re never really alone as we are constantly tripping over 2 Bulldogs and shoving a Manx cat off our laps, but you know what I mean) I find his facial expressions and body language fun, hilarious and heart-warming.  

Whether he is sitting there either leaning forward with an ear-to-ear grin, or guffawing in a low rumbly belly laugh that has the windows vibrating, I can be found sitting on the other side of him smiling broadly at his joy. 

I've noted, no matter how scared I am, worried I am, or how bad I feel, one snort of derision or clatter laughter at something from Left Brain can make it all better.

When Left Brain is truly tickled, he leans very far forward, almost doubled over and lets out a bark of laughter that often startles the animals and perks me up a fair bit. 

Long car trips often find him laughing at me.  I will admit I try hard to bring that laughter about.  He thinks I am a savant when it comes to knowing song lyrics, but what I love most to do is change the lyrics around to suit my needs or thoughts at the moment.  Often these make his cheeks turn pink.  He says that it is not due to embarrassment, but more to do with the fact that his girl (me) can really come up with some interesting lyrics.

The last two days has found me watching him slide into a sadness that breaks my heart to see and causes me stress physically.  I am bound and determined not to let this be a cycle for us.  Just today he called to tell me he didn’t want to go to a Tiger’s Baseball Game we were gifted with tickets for as he was rejected for another position. 

You see, my laughing, smiling boy of a man has been looking for work too long, too hard and getting no help or jobs or … anything.  Once you have been a good provider and circumstance takes that from you, it is a slippery slope down to depression.

I have begun to not ask God to give Left Brain work, but spend time thanking Him for the work He will give him.  It is the desire of my heart, it is a need, and I know God will provide.  In the meantime, I will continue to live for the moments that the thoughts about finding work slow for him OR he gets a job and I can sit and watch with joy in my heart as he hoots with laughter, leans forward and rumbles with joy.  It is the stuff my happiness is made of.

So tonight I’m going to go walking with my boy who’s heart was meant to be light, to be filled with music, silliness and orneriness…I’m going to tease him, flirt outrageously with him and make up silly songs, I’m going to come in and watch utter nonsense on the television with him and know that he’s in there, buried beneath burden and worry…and wait.  He'll come back.  He was made for laughter and love.  I was made to enjoy it and him.

Elusive Sleep...and the Quest to Find It

What does one do when sleep eludes them? 

Lie there awake calculating and re-calculating time slept, hours until you must be up for work, minutes since you last checked all of the above as if participating in some horrible math lesson? 

I used to write stories in my head.  I would lie there, eyes closed, and write stories that I would swear I would remember the next day.  They were spectacular at times in scope and imagination.  I often fancied myself the next Karen Marie Moning, going over and over every detail only to have the curse of fatigue and of ‘lack of sleep’ rob me of the things I thought might be fascinating to others mere hours later!

Due to health concerns, I often find myself awake at 3:00 a.m.  There isn't much I can do about it, but I did want to try to learn to cope and what better way to cope in the middle of the night than to pray at that time. 

I begin by thanking God for the wonders in my life.  I've many!  I then like to thank Him for His love and guidance and shortly I find myself asking Him for the desires of my heart.  My desires aren't really many, when it comes right down to it. 

I ask God to help Left Brain find work and happiness in his occupation. 

I ask God to help us find a way to be married and live our happily ever after.

I ask God to bless my eldest and his little clan.  Give them contentment and peace.

I ask God to be with my eldest’s future spouse, to keep her safe and bring her to our family happily.

I ask God to be with youngest.  To ease the burden of anger and hatred he holds in his heart.

These things are not the only things I ask my God for, but these, again, are my heart’s desire.  If you only have the faith of a mustard seed (and I’ve got an avocado seed’s worth, so that is a lot!) our Bible says, God will hear your heart.  I actually call these my spotlight prayers.  God really sees spotlight prayers (one’s directly from the heart), I always believe, more than casual flashlight prayers.

I’ve discovered something in deciding to spend that time in prayer and supplication instead of writing fantasies I’ll never remember, no matter how much money I’d make from their fabulousness.  I've discovered that I always make it through the prayer portion of thankfulness to my God.  I've discovered that 9 times out of 10, however, I will fall asleep during the portion of my prayers where I ask God for those things that are most in my heart.  I think that is because God knows those things already.  They are in my heart, and my God is everywhere…especially in my heart.  He knows what I need and though it may not end up being in my time frame, God will supply.

Here’s to a good night’s sleep, and if not, some time with God.  A very good thing, indeed.

Holding on to Anger

Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.

Buddha

For many years I was angry.  Angry at myself for staying somewhere I knew I should not be.  Angry that I let someone else’s actions destroy my world.  Angry that I couldn't confide in those I loved most and angry that when I tried and was patted on the head like the obedient dog I had become.

My grandfather used to say, “Enough is enough and too much is nasty.”  I had, had enough anger, I had had too much of it and it was nasty.  I've often heard that fear robs us of joy, anger does as well.  Anger will eat at you, anger will change your perspective and make you lose focus.  One day I woke from my anger induced stupor and decided to take the matter in hand and do what I could to make anger not be a daily part of my life.  It was one the sweetest gifts I have ever given myself.  The hard thing is not often the easy thing to do, but sometimes the hard thing to do is the right thing to do.

If I reflect on my childhood I remember many things.  Some good, some not so good, some benign.  Were I to focus on only the things that made me angry, I’d be angry still.  People who do this tend to lead lives filled with vindictiveness and self-perpetuation of their anger issues. 

Now, I am of the old school that believes no matter what mistakes your folks made you respect them.  They put food on the table, clothes on your back…and they are human.  I set a good example for my boys in allowing them to know of my own mother’s lack of friendship with me, and yet let them know that I loved her in spite of that.  We can love someone and not like them very much.  I was always respectful to her...regardless.

My youngest son lives his anger.  He lives it daily.  His anger is based in me, his mother.

My youngest says he remembers me doing any number of heinous things to him.  He not only says he remembers them but when he thinks of me he re-lives those things.  He feeds his anger regularly on these things.  You can point out logical things to him, such as, ‘if any of these things are true, what kind of father does it make your father to not notice, what of your aunts, teachers, church people?’ it doesn’t matter.  In his heart, these things are true. 

·      He cannot see the wonderful things I did for him, as he has his heart filled with anger for me. 

·      He cannot see the thoughtful things I did for him, as he has his heart filled with anger for me.

·      He cannot see how I fought for him to do the things he wanted to do, and dreamed big with him because his heart is filled with anger at me.

·      He cannot see the time we are missing together and the love I have for him as his heart is filled with anger for me.

One day I will be gone.  I used to wonder if he would come to regret not finding me and talking all this out when that happens.  I no longer do.  He likely won’t.  His anger has consumed his ability to reason.  I’ve reached out.  I’ve emailed.  I’ve called.  I’ve tried talking to others to try reach out to him.  I can do no more.

Recently I was informed my son's vindictiveness, due to his anger, had spilled into my public life.  He was actively doing something to cause me public harm.  His anger toward me was that hot coal.  He was using that coal to attempt to hurt me.  In the end his angry attempt didn't hurt me.  It helped me!

I could have become angry at his doing this, but I've learned the joys of not carrying anger.  I could have used the hurt it caused to make me feel the same for him as he does for me.  I haven’t.

What his hot coal did was this…it permitted me to let him go.  Oh, I still love him, heart and soul.  I still think of him and smile.  I will not allow anger to rob ME of that.  I will allow his anger, however, to help me move along.  To know that sometimes, it is best to let go, and let be.

I’m through with hot coals, whether holding them myself, or watching others try to lob them at me.  Life is short, I hope to make it sweet.