laugh

about the hardest day in dealing with all this grief was last thursday. and i felt better after i had the major cataclysmic "ugly oprah cry", but i wasn't fully rid of the hovering fog that kept me from seeing too clearly. so on friday, after my class, i went home, and watched della reese beat the living crap out of eddie murphy in harlem nights. i tell you. that did me so much good. u just don't know. the side effect is that i've got curse words floating around my head that really shouldn't be there, but at least it helped me come out of my funk. sometimes you need a really good laugh.

thanks again to everybody who prayed for me, listened to me whine, or just resisted the opportunity to go deal with somebody else who was less afflicted for... on tuesday, i did not shed a single tear all day. my friend called me late that night when i left and talked to me for the entire 90 minute trip keeping me occupied, encouraged with the Word of God, laughing, and singing too. my problem was that i was expecting the worst. i didn't know who was gonna wild out and take it out on me (it's happened subtlely before). i didn't want to be in bakersfield. and i most certainly didn't want to be in bakersfield for a funeral. yet, there i was.

"...but dare i go where i don't understand / do i dare remember where i am / i stand before the great eternal throne / the one that God himself is seated on / and i... / i've been invited as a son / oh i, i've been invited to come and / believe the unbelieveable / receive the inconceivable / and see beyond my wildest imaginations / Lord I come with great expectations" - steven curtis chapman, "great expectations"

all crying aside, i was tellin' my boy before i hit the road that i didn't feel emotionally like i could make it through the day without coming apart. he replies back to me "that's why we walk by faith, and not by sight." i said, "thank you. i needed somebody to say that." so i spent most of the time trying to convince myself it might not be as bad as i thought, but i was in bakersfield and i was uncomfortable, and it was late, and just couldn't wait to get back home.

so come 11am in the morning, i was pleasantly disappointed. the family was in good spirits and smiling and laughing even though it was hard times all around. since our family has made up the core of the choir in this church for years, most of the people closest to the grief were in the stand, myself included. the preacher was long-winded and tune-happy, given to gusty exhales between his sung-preached phrases. so after awhile, we all tuned out and started doing the swerve to the music and giggling quietly as if no one else could see our shoulders heaving and the faces of the many folks with light complexions turning pink and squinting with laughter.

"Believe the unbelievable / with great expectation / Lord help me believe / these great expectations / I say I believe / Lord help me believe / These great expectations"

it was at this time that my expectations were so pleasantly disappointed. i was expecting trouble and i got laughter. and then i realized that these are my people. i haven't seen them in a shamefully long time, but this is my herd of swans. the rest of the time, i'm with ducks who have adopted me and take me as i am. but when we got together under pressure, we laughed. we watched t.v. and we laughed. we speckled the funeral remarks with jokes and we laughed. we hugged each other and cried and prayed, but we still laughed. it's part of the way i deal, and it took seeing the rest of my swans doing the same to realize that i'm not that weird afterall. i'm just a little removed from my herd right now.

one thing most of jerome's friends and relatives had to say was that he loved to eat. at about 6' tall, we were all amazed that he wasn't a heavier individual. not unlike me, i'm 6' 1", 150 lbs., but still known to straight wreck a buffet at any family gathering, and yes, i'm takin' a plate home. the food at the repass was off the chains and we loaded up our plates. i sat down with mine and somebody made a comment that i had the plate stuffed pretty high. so i said "yeah. jerome would have wanted it that way."

and we laughed.

get the point? and of course, the contrast is a little sharper on my mom's side of the family. my humor doesn't buy me as much as it would elsewhere. there are so many sensitive personalities and insecure folks that you can't do any gentle ribbing or odds are, someone will be offended. at my uncles funeral in 2003, my aunt remarked that she had lost several pounds worrying about her brother towards the end there. i remarked in lighthearted nature that she should consider it something of a parting gift from uncle c.d. i heard later on that that didn't go over so well. so i suppose those people don't quite believe in curing grief with a salve of humor. that's ok. we all do what we have to do to keep from crying and i think my method is working fine for me.