A few years ago, I wrote a passionate rememberance of the tragedy of September 11, 2001. I wrote about where I was, how I felt, and how the world had changed since that day. Those sentiments hold true today, but instead of writing about sadness and tragedy, I would like to write about humor and perserverance.
After the attacks of 9/11, it was a long time before people would allow themselves to laugh again. There was a collective fear that laughter would disrespect the fallen. That perhaps in the aftermath of such a serious blow to our country and our lives, nothing should be funny again.
But as hard as it may be, life does go on. And life is meant to be laughed at.
Last year on 9/11, the toilet seat in my bathroom was cracked. Someone stood on it to reach the wall above. That by itself isn’t funny. Listening to someone yelp in the middle of the night because they’ve gotten pinched in said crack is hilariously funny. It wasn’t quite as funny when I was the one with bite marks on my behind, but it didn’t stop me from laughing.
Sometimes if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.
Hard times will come and go. People you love will pass. Opportunties will be lost and new ones found. Change is as constant and inevitable as the wind. And life will still be meant to be laughed at.
Last year, before moving to the farm, my husband and I sat at an outdoor cafe having lunch in the shade, the cool breeze blowing my newly copper hair around my face. I ditched the color a few months later, but it wasn’t just because my husband said, in the sun, my hair looked like a fancy dessert. I’m not sure if that was a compliment, or a snarky commentary on my existance. I was ok either way. I liked it, and if it made a statement, all the better. Because…right…life is meant to be laughed at.
This year, I’m convinced my ducks are out to get me, my chickens just watch them plotting without lifting a wing to help me…not even the rooster I saved from the stew pot…and my dogs steer clear of the crazy ducks, which actually makes me fear them that much more. But when it comes right down to it, when the ducks quack up…and oh, I really do think they’re laughing at me…I can’t help but laugh myself. Crazy, plotting ducks are funny. Funnier because I know they don’t have thumbs, or access to the internet.
Oh, I had a much more elaborate blog planned for today. I did. But just as I was sitting down to write it, my computer crashed. I didn’t laugh. I didn’t find it funny. But when the dust settles, and my husband restores all my settings to where they belong, I’m sure I’ll laugh. It’s just another day in what I like to call “my life”.
And life, my friends, is definitely meant to be laughed at.