THE LAST LAUGH

March 27, 2016

Laughter is a good thing. Uncontrollable laughter, even better. There's a synergy that comes with humor between friends and family. We get it. Most of the time.

Humor makes the best of times even better. I recall with a smile my favorite jokes and Dad's frequent laughter. Most of our family stories centered on something we found exceptionally funny. More often than not, something went hysterically wrong and we couldn't help but laugh.

Dad even joked about things we knew would inevitability bring sadness, quipping, "We all have to get out of this world some way." Yes, true. I love that he faced the inevitable with laughter, rather than trepidation.

I was prepared, as much as possible, for the inevitable: the day I would say goodbye to Dad for the last time. He's the one who made it as gentle as possible. The life lessons I learned growing up in the ministry, plus a steady diet of humor along the way gave me the fortitude to face the day.

The day we ventured to hospice was a work out. I thanked Dad for making it as easy as possible and being such a good patient. With a twinkle in his eye he responded, "It isn't over yet." Humor couldn't remove the inevitable, but it reminded me there would always be something in life that could solicit a smile.

I remember Dad's last laugh. In the hours waiting at hospice, I browsed through the activity room and found a sign propped on a piano that read, "I've stopped listening, why are you still talking?" Because my family is known to have a few 'talkers,' I snapped a picture with my cell phone. I suspected it would bring a laugh from Dad when I showed him the picture. He did not disappoint. The sound of his chuckle gave me hope that after our last goodbye, I could still smile, even laugh.

Dad left this world on a Maundy Thursday, which seems apropos for someone who dedicated his life to ministry. Today we celebrated Easter Sunday and I remember joking with Dad each year about the early Easter Sunrise Service. "Dad, you know the sun rises until 12 noon, right?"

Of course I understand, death is serious and the story of salvation is not to be taken lightly. Christ conquered death. And that brings the biggest smile.

[Carolyn Fjeran, LowTide explorer/reflective writer; horticulturist & gardener; former writer for Cooperative Extension Service, Master Gardeners and The Newnan Times Herald]