Hello, friends!
About 13 minutes into his commencement speech at Duke University, Jerry Seinfeld advises the graduates, “Do not lose your sense of humor.” He says that humor is necessary to survive life, and I would argue that it’s also necessary to survive a loved one’s death.
I think we should take both life and death seriously, but not too seriously. Life and death are absurd. I don’t think it cheapens anything to acknowledge and even celebrate that.
I appreciate humor for its ability to show me different ways of looking at things. One of my favorite Buddhist jokes, for example, tells of a man who wants to cross a wide river. He sees a Buddhist monk on the opposite bank and calls out, “How do I get to the other side?” The monk replies, “My friend, you are on the other side.”
After Tom died, I often felt overwhelmed by grief, and sometimes taking care of our pain-in-the-ass puppy became a lightning rod for my frustration. I had only agreed to get the puppy when Tom promised to do most of the work. There were days when I struggled with the puppy and thought, “I can’t do this!” But there were also days when I struggled with the puppy and thought, “Well played, Tom.” And there were days when I had both thoughts.
Humor isn’t a denial of the tough stuff. For me, humor simply provides a momentary break from the tough stuff that allows me to collect myself, take a breath, and reset.
The puppy was no less of a pain-in-the-ass on days that I had a sense of humor about it than on other days, but that moment to reset reminded me that the puppy would mature, that I had friends and family who would help if I needed a break, and that in the future, the saga of the pain-in-the-ass puppy would actually be funny.
I hope you’ll find value in what I share here, and if you do, please forward it to others. Let’s help each other along on this journey.
Onward, in hope and solidarity.
Elizabeth
Moving Forward
I blogged about what to talk about with a dying person, seeing aging as a privilege, how everyone thinks they’re the only one who is lonely, recognizing that a grieving behavior is no longer serving me, and why correcting a grieving person’s grammar makes you look like a jerk.
This month I started an 8-week online course to get certified as an end-of-life doula. It’s exciting to be on the cusp of a new chapter, especially one that I never anticipated. I’ve spent most of my life avoiding anything having to do with death and now I’m learning how to help people make the transition to death.
I turn 55 this month, so I was due for a colonoscopy. Woo hoo! If anything provides an opportunity for humor, it’s a colonoscopy. It’s behind me now (ha ha), but I do want to encourage all of you who are 45+ to familiarize yourselves with the current American Cancer Society guidelines for screening.
This Might Help
This TEDxBuffalo Talk by hospice physician Christopher Kerr shares findings from a study of hundreds of dying people on what they dreamt about. I find it extremely comforting.
For many of us, the possibility of dementia is one of the scariest aspects of aging. This under five-minute film about a 93-year old man with dementia who was able to reconnect with people through music showed me what a powerful tool music can be and it made me a little less afraid of dementia.
Tell me . . .
How has humor helped you with grief, loneliness, loss, and other tough stuff?
Which aspects of aging scare you the most?