Flying Lessons: Laughter

I spent the better part of Good Friday afternoon laughing until my sides hurt.  My cousin, who is also a-gift-of-a-friend, and I met at our usual meeting place.

For years now, Nil’s Bakery in the Varina part of Fuquay, is where we have gotten together, grabbed a bite, and grappled with life for hours at a time.  And while there have been many serious conversations, there has always been a side of laughter for levity.  But Friday’s laughter was different.   You see, we’ve both been through a long and painful season.  The circumstances have been different, but the pain has been pain.  And we’ve both recently experienced unexpected respite.  On Friday, our laughter was not filtered through sadness and difficulty. 

Also on Friday, my cousin gave me these willow branches in memory of my dad. These branches are now in a bucket of water at The Fig.  If all goes well, they will bud and grow roots and be planted on the farm to become trees. 

About a year after my dad died, when The Fig was just getting started, I found myself at the courthouse in Harnett County.  The courthouse is near the cemetery where my dad was laid to rest.  (Confession…I had not been a responsible daughter and taken care of getting his tombstone.)  As I left the courthouse and drove by the cemetery without stopping, I said out loud, Dad, you don’t have a tombstone, but I do have a business license.  I felt his laughter fall all over me.  Truly, I felt his laughter fall all over me.  His laughter and blessing on me was not in a grave or laid to rest, but was palpable in my Subaru on Highway 210.  All I could do was laugh with him.

At The Fig

The signs are here…spring is coming.  It is.  Hope is pushing through the barren branches.

If your laugh is a bit too loud and forced, take heart, you may one day be surprised to find yourself on a public sidewalk making a spectacle of yourself with unbridled, pure laughter.  Laughing at the days to come. Unbelievable and possible. 

May hope push through,

june