Every now and then, since my husband died, something would make me chuckle maybe even laugh a little, but I have been longing for a good, bring tears to your eyes, make you feel like you’ll wet your pants, laugh. And I hadn’t had one of those since before Ceaser went into the hospital.

He was good for doing or saying something that would just bring me to my knees in laughter. Like the time he went to Red Lobster and was so greedy he had to order lobster, oysters, shrimp scampi, and something else. This won’t sound unusual to any one who knew Ceaser. He was an over-do-it kind of guy. I told him that was just too much food, too rich, and it would make him sick. Of course he refused to listen to me and ate every morsel. We left the Red Lobster and drove across the street to the grocery store, about a three-minute time span, and right about the time those store doors slid open his stomach started gurgling and I mean loud enough that I could hear it. The next thing I knew he was running full out to the nearest bathroom.

That was funny, really funny and I laughed until I could hardly catch my breath.

I really appreciate a good laugh especially the kind that makes your sides ache, and feels good at the same time. In fact, I had found myself praying for laughter the last few weeks.

Work has been really tough, juggling several stories at once and trying to make sure they are all done well. And it seems that suddenly there is more to do at home too. So after work I’m usually in a mad dash East on an annoyingly jammed I-70 to get home and take care of those things - getting Jordan to one thing or the other and getting dinner on the table before 8 p.m.

There really hasn’t been much laughter in the midst of all of that. It’s not that I’m still feeling sad or anything. Although, I suppose there is some of that. But, I think I’ve just had too much on my mind to absorb the humor around me. I concluded though, that surly I would laugh hard and hardy when something was really funny. And so I just continued on battling through each day praying for laughter.

I so believe that like tears, laughter is great for whatever ails you.

Then, out of the blue last night I got a call from an old boyfriend. I suppose I really shouldn’t call him old, since he and I are the same age, although I don’t think he would mind my choice of words. I’ll just say he was my college boyfriend. The two of us have stayed friends over three decades, a wife, a husband and four kids between us. I’m not sure why he called except that maybe he needed to talk. He’s going through a tough time. Lord knows he’s been there for me more than a few times when life bumps sent me off course. So, I listened and added my two cents here and there. I think it helped. We also did some reminiscing about those college days and got a few chuckles. He remembered some stories I had long forgotten and told him about some things about stuff I saw, heard and felt that I hadn’t shared with him in all these years. It was a great conversation. We talked the way we did 30 years ago. And then it happened. I don’t remember now what led up to it. But suddenly he was telling me a story that was so perfectly inappropriate to share. So inappropriate, I can’t give details here. But, let me just say it had something to do with him suffering with hemorrhoids and trying to insert a slippery suppository.

Well, I laughed so hard it bent me over. I must have laughed for three minutes straight. Tears ran down my cheeks. I gasped for air, then laughed some more, begging him to stop telling the story. It was the funniest thing I had heard in a very long time. It was REALLY funny. I’m sure I’ll laugh about this one every time I think about it. And I’m sure he thought he was calling because he needed a friend. I think he was calling because I needed to laugh.