There's a Time to Laugh

On May 18th of 1991, my little sister,Chrissy, got married to Frank.  The two of them would have had 19 years of marriage together under their belts if she were still alive today......actually more years of being together since they met when she was only 15 years old.  The old saying goes, "How time flies", and I used to think it was only said by those who were much older.  Here I am, saying it to myself, wishing we had more time together, but that was not meant to be.  In grief, we always want more time.  It is what it is.  There are other plans bigger than two sisters who would have wanted to grow old together, larger than two people in love who wanted to watch their kids learn and enjoy life, and greater than two young children who would have loved to have their mother here, attending their school functions, watching movies together, eating dinner as a family and so much more.  As I've matured into my 40's, I don't look at myself as an older person, but I guess someone in their 20's might look at me as old.  It seems like yesterday that we were sitting in our livingroom on Durness. She was adorned in her beautiful wedding dress, the bridemaids in our peach dresses and"80's" hair....the fuller the hair.....the better, and the day was beautiful.  1991 was a year of weddings for our family as Chrissy married in May, I married in August, Deni in September and my friend, Buffy, married in October.  I don't know how it all happened, but perhaps it was the trickle down effect of one couple seeing the next being engaged and so on.  It was a lean year financially, but we pulled it off, didn't we.

Yesterday, I thought of my sister as I usually do, but Frank was weighing heavy on my mind, thinking of what he might be feeling on this day.  Of course, he was probably reminiscing like the rest of us, but this was his true love, the one he had hoped to grow old with, and that was not meant to be.  Perhaps thoughts of his engagement, their dating years, the wedding itself, and how blessed he had been to know her....be with her....or wishing there would have been more time together.  I couldn't say what was permeating his thoughts, but I could only imagine.  As a few of us gathered to be with him......not quite sure of what I could say or not say that would make a difference......the night began to a sort of roast to a sister, a wife, a friend.  As we talked of the Meyer traits and who our family is, it led to Chrissy's mannerisms, her stance, her look, and even her stomp.  Yes, I had forgotten the infamous stomp.  When Chrissy would get frustrated, she would have a booming stomp.  It was Frank who asked where had she gotten that stomp from, but it was her own, and it made us all crack up as Frank imitated her.  Her stomp would vibrate the whole house, and anyone hearing it would have thought something huge had just fallen on the floor.  We talked of how we terrorized each other, how I tortured her with hiding and scaring her.......and now we frighten our own kids with the same practical jokes and scare tactics.  How is it that I wonder why they can't fall asleep at night?  I will even go so far to say that I was a culprit of the spitting game.  I'm keeping it real, and as much as I refrain from actually spitting, and I abhore the crudeness of any woman or man spitting(sorry for the spitters out there; it's just one of my pet peaves).....I terrorized my sister when we were younger by holding her down, and pretending that I would let the drip of spit fall on her face.  Of course, we were laughing as well as yelling in this Meyer game.  If she was lucky, the spit did not fall, but sometimes one got loose.  I'm sorry to say that I was involved in this activity, but that game was also forced on me by my brother and so it goes up in the chain of command with siblings.  We also talked of the 80's hair and how cool we thought we looked with the puffiness of  "the feather" and the hair spray that was so firm; you could break a stick over our heads.  Our husbands would hesitantly accept our hair styles; we knew we were cool, but they hadn't caught up with what was IN STYLE at the time.  We talked of our cars and the pennies we would pinch and pretending to have, when we didn't have.  Chrissy would be riding in Frank's Nova or Chevelle, which wasn't in the best of shape....with the lining in the car that would be borderline disturbing; yet, they rode through Ladue, Chrissy's right foot dangling outside of  the car window, pretending she was a potential buyer for the exquisite homes.  You have to laugh.  Frank went on to tell of how he proposed to Chrissy  some 20 years ago.  Making arrangements for his mom to have a night of bingo so that he could propose, setting the table with one of Chrissy's favorite meals.....Red Lobster......buying only the best of champagnes, presenting the engagement ring in front of the selections of her favorite foods.  Awaiting to hear her surprise, cries of unexpected joy, loving words to be said to him.  As Chrissy entered the room, she jumped up with excitement, Frank feeling her love and anticipating her reciprocal expressions of love.  He was awaiting those beautiful words of  "Gosh, you want to marry me?" or "I love you" or "I will!".   The words that passed Chrissy's mouth were classic because it showed where her priorities were, as we all know.  As she entered the room, the words that passed her lips were, "You got me Red Lobster!!!"

There's a time to laugh.....and that we did....for the very first time since her death.....I allowed myself a good belly laugh.  I couldn't have expected that would happen for what I know this day meant, but in grief, there is a time to laugh.  There are no rules or expectations....it is still awkward and painful....but for this night with a friend, a husband and sisters.....we were able to laugh.

"Only our great God can reach down into what otherwise would be brokenness and produce something beautiful.  With him, nothing is wasted.  Every broken dream and heart that hurts can be redeemed by his loving, warm touch.  Your life may be shattered by sorrow, pain or sin, but God has in mind a kaleidoscope through which his light can shine more brilliantly."

  - Joni Eareckson Tada