05 Mar Funny Story

Funny Story BlogFunny Story

I have been packing up my house this week because we are getting ready to move.  When I was going through boxes in the basement I found some of my daughter’s school papers from her junior high years.  As I was sorting through them a memory popped into my mind that I had forgotten about.   And I still think it’s funny.  First the back story of the Funny Story.

My daughter was 13 years old and my son was 16 years old when their father died.  My son is our biological child and he is our blond hair and blue eyes child… our daughter is adopted.  We were Foster Parents and Jessica arrived at our house when she was 4 years old.  Jessica is multicultural.  She is African American and Italian and I believe she has a little bit of Mexican in her too.  Blackish Brown hair and big brown eyes… She was a gorgeous child and is a stunning looking lady today.  In fact, when she was little it was common for people that didn’t know us to walk up to us and comment on how beautiful she was and ask us, “Where did you get her from?” When I responded with a big smile, “Howell Michigan” they would look puzzled, chat for a minute and walk away.  She blended in easily with her African American friends and the Mexican children when we vacationed in northern Michigan.

Now to the story.  A few months after my husband Donald died the three of us were at a school band event at my son’s school.  After the program was over Jessica and I pushed our way through the crowd toward the exit.  All of the sudden this lady broke through the crowd, jumped out in front of us and ran toward us smiling and shouting, “I just have to meet you.  Your husband is just like my husband.”  Me and Jess stopped in our tracks.  We looked at other… And the first thing that I thought was, “Dead?” I also thought that she looked extremely happy for having a dead husband.  Jessica looked over at me and said, “Dead?”

This lady walked right into the limited and very noisy space around us and continued saying something about having the same type of husband… and I finally said, “Excuse me—is he dead?”  And she looked at me, with a very puzzled look, and said, “No, why would he be dead?”  And I said, “Because my husband is dead.” She relied, “No my husband is Mexican and he’s alive.”  She proceeded to tell us that when she saw Jessica she got excited because there was another Mexican child at the school.  I explained that we thought she meant dead…

Jessica and I laughed all the way home.  The point is funny things do happen when you are grieving and laughter is healing.

Healing Forward Action Step:  Find something to laugh about today.  (I did.  I called Jessica and reminded her of this incident and we both had another good laugh.)