Laugh and the world laughs with you
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep and you weep alone. —Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I come from the blood of howlers and berserkers. The ones who ran into battle with their teeth bared,and laughed in the face of fear. I can do no less.
I remember howling down the stairs, we lived in a converted garage, into the kitchen when I perceived that some deal I had made with my mother had been broken. She was pregnant with her fifth child at the time, a boy. and she was tired and sick all the time. I’m not sure how long I howled, maybe 10-20 minutes, but it was enough to make my voice hoarse.
After my father couldn’t ignore me anymore, he picked me off the stairs and told me that “life wasn’t fair.” That I had to get over my perceived hurt. Then my mother, who was my avowed enemy by that time told me, “Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry alone.”
I was six.
It is funny how these basic moments still live in my head. When I was marching in boot camp, I had to keep my lips from twitching when I listened to some of the girls that were big enough and strong enough to beat me up.
I held in the laughter when an officer kept bugging me every five minutes while I was working on a piece of equipment. I finally asked him to hand me tools. After a couple he vanished. Seriously if you have ever been in the military you know that it would have looked bad on him if he was helping a maintenance geek. I still find it hilarious.
When I had red eyes and light sensitive before I was diagnosed with a serious autoimmune disease, I would find amusement when I pulled off my sunglasses and certain individuals would see my eyes. There was shock there. Plus most people refuse to look at something they find repulsive. And yes, blue eyes that are purple is repulsive to most people. With the sunglasses they just thought I was someone who thought she was important.
I’ve laughed at a lot of ridiculous situations especially when I had to deal with medical. It is better to laugh when you have to get naked and then put on that hospital gown that gaps at the back, then to cry at the hand the life has dealt you.
If you call me ugly, I will laugh at you because I know differently. If you call me a supremacist, I will laugh at you. If you call me stupid, I will laugh. The taunt, point one finger at me, but three fingers point back at you, is true.
There are times that I have cried so much that the snot ran down my face and I couldn’t breathe. I do that in private. I give myself an hour, a day, a week or in the case of losing my late husband, several years. This is my grief, which is only for me and G
od.
Even then, I will laugh when I see myself in the mirror—the wretched picture of sadness.
The ability to laugh at my misfortunes may be why I have lived so long with a ridiculously dangerous disease and now with kidney dialysis.
Life long and prosper, but at the sametime laugh.