My sense of humor, the oldest and most reliable thing I own and use it every day. It has carried me through so many dark days and lightened the good ones. Nights sitting around a campfire with friends laughing until we hurt and fell out of our chairs. Family get togethers where a group of us would sneak away and relive some of our best days and greatest follies.
Sometimes it is dark and I’m the man on the gallows, living only as long as I keep the crowd laughing. Poking fun at myself and laughing at my circumstance. How long can I laugh in the face of my own death? stick around and find out. I was recovering from some injuries and sent to a counseling group as part of my recovery. One man stands out in my memory because of a comment, “I would worry about you, but you laugh at everything. You’ll be fine.”
To be honest and fair, most of the time I only amuse myself. That’s okay by me. As long as I can laugh at the world, it’s all good. Boards are showing green. Perspective is clear.
As I age and my mind starts to slip, I may lose my sense of humor. That’s okay, too. Between brain injuries and Alzheimer’s, I probably won’t notice. I expect to be making inappropriate suggestions to my nurses and imagining that I can still deliver on my promises. I hope I don’t though, humor anyway may be the only thing I have left
The New Word Wars 