Those of you who know me, know I’m a big family person. I’m never happier than when sitting around a campfire with those closest to me chatting and laughing, and teasing and joking, as Hubs and I did with family and friends on Saturday night at my daughter and SIL’s home.
As usual, conversation devolved into silly, and what some might deem, inappropriate, subjects, predictable conversation I used to lament, and have since come to welcome as I realize it symbolizes my children and son-in-law and extended family’s affection for, and trust in, each other.
There’s nothing like a ribald zinger, or raucous reminiscences of an embarrassing moment in your life, to know you’re well loved by those who are guffawing and wiping tears from their eyes at your expense, because the truth is, we rarely, if ever, roast those we’d rather forget. Only the people we love are raised high enough in our consciousness to warrant fond or frivolous recounts of our most humiliating missteps months, or decades, later.
The day we sit around as a family and don’t end up howling with laughter over someone’s latest misadventure, or faux pas from 2009, is the day I start to worry–and host a family intervention.
Laughter truly is the best medicine for what ails. And in our family, helping to restore a healthy balance by taking your turn at being the butt of a joke, is simply your loving contribution to the healing, and overall emotional well-being, our–and any family–needs, to help weather Life’s storms.
To feel that one has a place in life solves half the problem of contentment.~George F. Woodberry