Mike’s hilarious post this past week really reminded me just how important humor is in dealing with this life. Or really any struggles in life. Sometimes I’m guilty of losing my funny, sarcastic, smart ass self. I’m definitely guilty of not showing that side of myself to very many people. But I can still recall some recent awesome moments of dark humor…
Like when the song Dust in the Wind comes on the radio and I exclaim to Mike, “look it’s Megan’s song!” Since she was cremated.
Or the other day when Shelby, our 11 year old, had a friend over who saw my replica human skull I use for photoshoots and asked her who’s skull it was… I told Shelby she should have told her it was my mom’s skull. And then an entire conversation went on in the middle of the Halloween section at the craft store about having my mom’s skull on a shelf in our basement. I’m certain at least a few other customers were gawking at me. My people though… Didn’t skip a beat.
Still I haven’t embraced this humor nearly enough lately, and it wouldn’t be a bad thing to start trying to some more. Mostly I stopped when moving to Ohio and being in a whole new environment where I’ve felt out of place. But I’m more settled now, it’s time to let that side out to play.
It’s a special kind of bond to be able to share all the disturbing thoughts and horrible humor and have it received and welcomed. A special thing when you find the people who aren’t afraid to laugh at inappropriate things and who understand the importance of making something so fucking heavy, a bit lighter. People who get it that the dark laughs are some of the best laughs we will ever share with others.
If there’s one thing I am very grateful for that loss has given me, it’s memories of this kind of shared humor (and way more reasons to drink often and drop the F-bomb than I ever should have been given). I gained tons of dark humor with my siblings because of our dad’s alcoholism, and after both our parents died. I gained even more with my widowed family after Drew died… And with his mom too. And with my new person because his wife died. And in all my other friendships that don’t get it… I get to enjoy saying horrific things about dead people and make them super uncomfortable. It really is the gift that keeps on giving.
So thanks death, I think?
And thanks Mike, for the great laugh in last Tuesday’s post. We all needed it. And thanks for not roasting me, you are a wise man… I do cook your dinners, after all, and I know how to bury people. Just sayin.
