Being with my family has me thinking about growing up and the things I learned and the things I hope to teach The Boy. Singing to cleanse the soul I've already discussed. Here's the story I always think about when bad things happen:
My mom and aunts used to go Christmas shopping every year the day after Thanksgiving. These trips were mini-vacations, and one year, they booked a hotel and went to Cleveland. After a long day shopping, with Mom's Chevy Blazer loaded with toys, they skipped going to the hotel and went straight to dinner at an expensive steakhouse. This was a splurge, both on their diets and their wallets, and they enjoyed it. My mom stopped at the bathroom on the way out and then found one of my aunts standing in the glow of the security light in the empty parking spot where the Blazer had been.
"Sue, it's gone." My mom laughed and told her to stop joking. "No, Sue, it's gone." This went on a bit. Finally, Mom realized the girls weren't playing a joke on her. Someone had stolen the Blazer and all the presents.
She called my dad. She was laughing and Dad did not see the joke. "I don't know why the hell you're laughing," he snapped.
"I figured," Mom says every time she tells this story, "I could either laugh, cry or puke. I hate crying, I sure as hell wasn't going to puke up an expensive steak dinner and so that left laughing."
Laugh, cry or puke. When you put it that way, why would you not pick laughing?