Laughter now

August 30, 2009

It's hard to believe sometimes that there was a before. My niece's fourth birthday is on September 1st. I was remembering the day she was born and I was thinking about how hard it is to remember our family before Delia. Every child brings that sense with him or her, don't you think? And then I thought about Harper and how her brief presence in our lives has changed everything. She was with us for 24 weeks and she changed our past, our present, and our future.

Jeremy and my 12th wedding anniversary is on September 5th. I think back on the times we've spent together and I know that we laughed. I remember laughter. But somehow thinking about those times makes me sad, because I know I will never experience laughter like that again. I'm not trying to be all doomsday here. I'm really not. And I am deeply grateful for those moments of innocent laughter and joy. Those moments have carried me through some tough times. Oh, and here comes another hospital memory. Bear with me:

It must have been after one of my surgeries because I remember that I was laying in the bed (which I wasn't able to do at a certain point in time during my hospitalization). Jeremy had just left to go home and get some sleep for the night. The sun was setting outside and I was preparing myself mentally for me nighttime hospital routine. It felt like torture sometimes, but sometimes those moments in the evening when the nurses were changing shifts were actually peaceful moments for me. As I laid in the bed gazing out the window I remembered Jeremy and me at the beach in San Diego on our 10th anniversary. We played like children in the ocean. We tried to ride the waves and we laughed at each other as we got knocked about.

A smile crept across my face. I picked up the phone and called home, knowing that Jeremy wasn't there yet, but I wanted to share the memory with him so I left a message. "Hey sweetie. It's me. I was just laying here thinking about our San Diego trip and how we laughed and played in the ocean and what a wonderful time that was. We'll do it again when I'm well. I love you. I just wanted you to know I was thinking about that. Get some rest tonight. I'll be okay."

We laughed together. And it's not like we haven't laughed since. There is still laughter in our home. Oh . . . I love it when there's laughter. The core of my being is satisfied when Jeremy and I laugh together. But it's a different kind of laughter now. It's wiser, grounded, holding on just a little bit because it doesn't know for sure what's around the corner. It knows, and it will never be as carefree as it was before.

I know time heals all wounds. I get that. I really do. I've experienced that. Things have gotten better for me as time has gone by. But there are scars. There are all kinds of scars. And there are scars in my laughter now.