Writing Daily, Belly Laughs, and Friends Who See You
Only two weeks in and I missed a day. I can’t even say how many times yesterday I started to open the app and type something like, “Well, I don’t have much to say today. I’m going to a birthday party for a friend. Probably won’t find time to write.” Then, I would think, “Is that what this project is really about? Just writing for writing’s sake?” Then, I would think, “I wonder if there is still a chocolate chip cookie from Insomnia Cookies in the kitchen.” Then, I would be off to . . . well, to get a cookie, of course! (I loved the “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” book! I read that one to the two kids so many times. Written by Laura Numeroff and illustrated by Felecia Bond, it was one of our favorites for quite a while.)
I don’t want to write just to tick off a box each day, but I do want to be disciplined enough to tick the box each day. Does that even make sense? Now, I am writing about writing instead of sharing something vulnerable or slightly interesting. Let’s see where this goes . . .
At the birthday party I attended last night, a friend greeted me with “Hey Tumor!” Friend has had the privilege of calling me a nickname that no one else except my paternal grandmother ever called me. He gets to call me “Tiffy.” And, the truth is that I probably let him do it because he kind of sounds like Granny when he does. I don’t know why I hated that nickname, but I did. I have a cousin named Taffy. Yes, I do. So, it was understandable that Granny would say Tiffy and Taffy. And, it was alright for her to do it. Friend likely does it hoping to irritate, but I kind of love that we have this special thing.
Like I said, instead of “Tiffy” last night, he called me “Tumor.” And, we laughed then went on paying attention to the person we were there to celebrate. Friend likely wanted to irritate me because that is the kind of person this is, the kind to pick and poke and dig and prod. If you show weakness, you can be sure that it will be exploited. But, with that one little word, he let me know that he saw me. He sees me. He is reading. I hope he is reading this now and being tickled to be the main character of this little essay.
I thought about him the other day when I was writing about my father. I wrote something like, “He was the funniest person I’ve ever known. My oldest son comes in a close second.” I sat with those words for a minute, just staring at the screen trying to discern if I was telling the truth. I didn’t know for certain that it was the truth because Friend is way up there on the list too. I realized last night as we gathered together to celebrate someone we all adore that not even my Daddy made me laugh as hard as Friend does. When Friend is ON, there ain’t no stopping the belly laughs followed by wheezing and crying. It did my heart good.
The whole night did my heart good. It was the first time we had all been together since Before Times. I almost burst into tears when I first walked into the space and saw faces I love. (Everyone has been vaccinated.) We laughed a lot, ate a good bit, told old stories, drank, and acted fools. We also sat quietly, listened to one another, reflected on the year, and felt really weird the whole night.
I may be the only one who felt weird the whole time. I don’t think so, though. It was overwhelming. The sound of so many people talking and laughing in a house was penetrating and not always in a good way. So, you would find folks quietly gathered on the deck out back or the porch out front — which, by the way, was too damn hot to be gathering on! One of the things we talked about, reflected upon, was the magnitude of what it means for EVERYONE to go through a crisis together. We talked about how most of the time, you have a personal crisis, your friends listen, they help as they can, but you really just have to face it alone and feel no one really gets it. What does it mean for us on this earth to have all experienced the same crisis together?
Of course, it hasn’t just been one crisis, but it does feel like people have understood our connections to one another in a deeper way. What that will translate into, how that will cause us to live differently, I don’t know. I pray it does cause us to live differently.
There is a very fine line between feeling special and realizing you are really not that important. It is weird that each of us needs to understand both of these realities at a cellular level in order to be the best we can be. When everyone is going through the same thing at the same time, I am reminded that I am not so special after all. When Friend walks up and says, “Hey Tumor” in my ear, something perks up and reminds me that I am. Sometimes both are equally true.
(A moment ago, in my imagination, I heard that music from Doogie Howser, MD that played while he was typing his journal entries. I think it was because I was thinking, so the cursor was sitting still, but blinking. This is Year 49!)
Each of us is special and not so much all at the same time. Living in this balance may be goal number one for me right now. I’ve been known to make people angry by my blunt remarks. Last night I blurted out and stopped short a conversation where people were simply trying to share their love and concern for another friend. I was trying to help, but I know it sounded unkind. Sometimes when someone is feeling really guilty about something, kind of feeling like the Mouse with the cookie scenario, like their actions had caused some kind of trouble somewhere else, I have said, “You aren’t that important.” This is the kind of blunt remark that I mean.
(I’ve really gone off on a tangent, but I’ll follow where my Doogie Howser brain is taking me.)
I get why “You aren’t that important” sounds mean, but I truly mean it in a nice way. It is what I say to myself. I find great comfort in being reminded that it ALL really is NOT up to ME. There is a greater Power at work and I am just a speck in the universe when it is all said and done. AND, at the same time, I find comfort in knowing that the Living Jesus chooses ME, loves ME, communicates with ME. And, I believe that is true for every other speck in the universe too.
Writing daily. Belly laughs. Weird re-entry into social situations. Friend who sees me. None of it is very important in the grand scheme of things. And, at the same time, these are all matters of life and death. With them comes life. I choose life today, life that is embodied by friends sharing deep, long, belly laughs together. Thanks, Friend!
