I Made Her Laugh

If I am brutally honest, this is most likely how I was able to get Carol to take an interest in me. Even at 27, with a headful of hair, dreamy brown eyes, a boyish grin, and a full manly beard... I wasn't exactly the guy that all the gals were paying a lot of attention to at the Red Lion Pub that August night in 1982. But she did.

I'm pretty certain it was because I made her laugh.

Making people laugh has been my go-to for as long as I can remember. Some self-reflection a long time ago made me realize that my use of humor was a coping mechanism to compensate for some self-esteem issues that I had when I was a young boy. I was always the smallest boy in my class (and almost always the youngest.) When I was picked on about my size, I would just deflect it by making a joke. Not really the stereotypical class clown, just someone that used humor as a way of making people like me. And, for the most part, it worked. I also got (and I still get) a lot of satisfaction from making people laugh.

But, back to Carol. You know, not everyone appreciates a good laugh. Some folks are pretty serious minded all the time. I have to say though that little Carol Williams was a woman that LOVED to laugh. She comes from a family that loves to laugh. (That made me like them immediately.)

While I was still making her laugh, I convinced her that we should get married and, since we already had made up our minds about that, what was the point of a drawn out engagement? Let's just get it done. And so we did. And here we are.

So, why am I sharing all this with you? OK, you make her laugh... what's the big deal?

The big deal is that Carol was diagnosed with dementia in July 2016. I know the day, where I was sitting when I took the phone call, and I can probably tell you exactly what I was wearing. That was not a laughing kind of day. In fact, after the phone conversation with the doctor, I told my boss I needed to step out, I got in my car, and I rode around for about 40 minutes all the while crying like I hadn't done in a very long time. Not much laughing that day.

If you are curious, you can Google primary progressive aphasia and frontotemporal dementia. You may be familiar with Bruce Willis' medical condition. Same diagnosis.

Not exactly hilarious stuff.

But here's the deal. You just have to keep moving forward and try to make the best of the situation. Play the cards you've been dealt. If life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. Look for the silver lining in the dark clouds. You know... do all that stuff. I like a good idiom as much as the next guy. But, I'm not sure those were the exact words that I wanted to share with her when I got home. I didn't really know what to say or do. So I asked (and continue to ask) God to give me the strength, patience, and wisdom I need and to let me take the very best care of her that I am capable of.

Dementia is an insidious thief. It steals so much from those that suffer from it as well as robbing the family and friends around it.

But I am so thankful that it hasn't yet stolen her laughter and sense of humor. It also hasn't stolen the sweet, kind nature that any Carol lover knows is a hallmark of the kind of person she is.

So, going on 8 years into this journey, you know what we continue to do? We're still laughing. I can hear her cackling away (at all the appropriate times) while she is watching one of her favorite romantic comedies. She loves to laugh at all the dumb commercials from Geico, Liberty Mutual, Wendy's (Bag boy, bag boy whatcha gonna do...) She loves Sebastian Maniscalco, Leanne Morgan, and Nate Bargatze. It's a mystery to me how she can no longer really speak or understand words so much, yet laughs at the punch lines at the exact right times. Music and comedy truly are the best medicines for dementia.

My goal every day is to put a smile on her face and to make her laugh. Hey, it worked 41 years ago. She's been laughing at my shtick and my stupid jokes since.

I'm not about to stop making her laugh now.

Footnote: I've not really shared much on social media about Carol's diagnosis but, I figured after 7+ years, most people that we know fairly well already know because it's not like we've tried to keep it a secret. On the other hand, it hasn't been something I've shouted from the mountaintops. So, if you didn't know before... well, now you know. Prayers are always welcomed.