Tonight I acted like S was chasing me when she began following me with a cake beater to lick. We ran through the house laughing and I realized how little I have laughed over the last few months especially. The lives we lead with our special needs kids and for me, the responsibility for my older parents, have made me feel like I was drowning at times. My lifeline is and will always be Jesus. But one of my biggest struggles has been finding joy in the midst of trials. Laughter has not come easy, except the out crazy your crazy kid kind of maniacal laughter (which really isn’t good for the soul!) I realize I have lost part of myself over the last ten years, the crazy, funny voices and silly goofiness. Yet there have been moments, like tonight, when I’m reminded that life is full of joy and humor and messiness and people we love just because.
Along with the laughter comes tears. Out of the blue. In the strangest ways. I was in the dollar store tonight and walked by the aisle with washcloths on the shelf. I teared up. Why would washcloths make me sad? Because it’s one of the things I was constantly buying for my mom in the nursing home because the aides mixed up laundry among the residents. It was a continual battle to have what she needed for the hospice aide to give her a bath. So the reminder that my mom is gone came from a package of washcloths. Silly? No. Because that’s what grief does. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. My life has been so full of everyday routines and school, cooking meals and grocery shopping, making phone calls to lawyers (yes, that might be the reason I need to take my blog private, a post for another day). See last entry if curious. Decisions and tasks are always a part of our lives. So is grief and laughter, two extremes but two necessary seasons of life. I am going to embrace them both.