And Then We Laughed

by Donna Poole

We call them “the Southerns.”

That’s our affectionate term for our family who lives south of the Mason Dixon line. We use the term as in, “The Southerns are coming!”

Three of our Southerns came for a visit this past weekend, and with efforts rivaling that of a professional contortionist, our Michigan kids and grandkids were able to arrange schedules so we could spend two whole days together. One Michigan family couldn’t come because they have a wonderful new baby—and a terrible stomach flu. We missed the nine of them, but the other eighteen of us ate enough Kimmee desserts to last us through the month of April. We shared burdens, and between all our extended families, there are some seriously heavy ones. Two have cancer. One is moving into assisted living. A few of us have memory problems. Everyone is dealing with stress and loss of some kind. We had some quiet conversations, a few tears, and some silent prayers.

We shared meals together, and you don’t realize what a sweet joy that is until circumstances and distance make that possible only every few years. Eating together has a deeper significance than we may realize at the time. At our first meal this weekend, my heart hummed the old song, “Let us break bread together on our knees; let us break bread together on our knees; when I fall down on my knees; with my face to the rising sun; O Lord, have mercy on me.” 

O Lord, have mercy on everyone I love, for they are many. O Lord, bless everyone who made this gathering possible, especially Kimmee who worked so hard.

We ate meals here and at two other houses because our kids opened their homes too. Wherever we were, I heard the quiet hum of conversation punctuated by laughter, and I was happy. Deeply happy. In the laughter of loved ones, I heard the echo of heaven.

We laughed like carefree kids in the kingdom of our God. We played, “Doggie, doggie, where’s your bone?” Even the youngest grandkids quickly learned to disguise their voices and sound like opera singers or Kermit the Frog. We tried “Big Bootie, Big Bootie,” a clapping game, but discovered some of us didn’t have enough rhythm for that one. The kids played Limbo. We used a broom for a couple of fun games, and no, none of us flew on it. We told a story where each person added a sentence as soon as he or she could stop laughing long enough to get the words out.  

Leg wrestling was the most fun to watch. Our strong fireman son found himself flipped by his slender female cousin in less than three seconds, and I’m still grinning when I remember the shocked look on his face. He laughed so hard. Now he calls it “the game of humiliation.”

Laughter is one of God’s sweetest gifts. It’s a promise. I can almost hear the ringing laughter around the Big Table in heaven. Listen! Can you hear it too? It sounds as clear as bells, doesn’t it? That’s because there’s no minor key accompaniment of tears to laughter’s song in heaven.  

After our last meal together, we looked at old slides our patriarch, John’s dad, had taken, smiled at the memories, and laughed at the clothing styles. I don’t think I was the only one whose eyes stung a few times to see a smiling face looking back at me that has been in heaven for many years.

All too soon the slide show ended; someone turned off the old machine’s light and silenced its whirring noise. It was time to say goodbye.

It was hard. We hugged like it was the last time because we never know when it might be. We whispered prayers and words of love and encouragement. We cried, wiped our tears, and went out to our cars.

Our son, daughter-in-law and family came out to wave their goodbye blessings from the porch. A couple of them scooped up our twenty-two-year-old granddaughter and held her in their arms.

And then we laughed.

One of the Southerns jumped out of the car and snapped a picture of the family on the porch who were still waving goodbye, holding their twenty-two-year-old, and laughing.  

“Laughter is like a windshield wiper; it doesn’t stop the rain but allows us to keep going.” –Unknown

“Oh, blest be God for love and laughter, today, tomorrow, and hereafter.” –Amy Carmichael