The napkin My friend who is losing her home, whose son is chronically ill, whose daughter fractured her eye socket, whose car broke down on the way to the ER, with the daughter with the bleeding, fractured eye, whose plumbing was busted, whose toilet was sinking through the floor into the ceiling of the living room, who is still without her car, who has an ex-husband who sabotages her every move and is so evil he should be profiled by an FBI profiler- this friend was so broke last week she ran out of toilet paper. I had just returned from the grocery store bringing her milk and bread and toilet paper. My dear husband with the bad back was still hammering away (5 hours) in the bathroom replacing the flooring, the commode, etc. He was finishing up so I stayed to chat, and she says: “Last night, we were out of toilet paper. I was searching around the house, and ran across this box with small white napkins: my wedding napkins that have our name and date. I figured: Why not?” She says she handed them into her son. Suddenly he calls out: Mom, were you married on June 4, 1989? She said she started to laugh, and then telling me, she starts to laugh, and laugh, and we are both laughing, and wiping out eyes, and then we slow down a bit, and then we start up again and can’t stop laughing, the irony is so perfect. It is a precious memory. And the bathroom is fixed, so she can rent out a room, using the deposit to pay the garage, to get her car out of hock, and get a job, and pay bills - and buy toilet paper.

Well said ladies!!! Bravo!!! Liz, you especially resonate with me. I’m a cancer survivor. Actually, 7 different primary site cancers since 1989. Once you confront your own mortality you need to keep a sense of humor and a positive spirit. Otherwise, you might as well throw in the towel. When I go in for check ups my doc’s are happy to see me. It means they’re doing their jobs right, and I’m doing my part in attitude and focus. Joan, I agree with you about the ‘world’ everywhere not taking life serious enough. What frustrates me most is that it is out of my locus of control. I think to myself…if they only knew.

If we do not laugh, we will not survive. I am a retired Pediatric SW and the children taught me that wonderful lesson (and still do in my volunteer work). My Mom has dementia and we still find moments of laughter to share. A cousin sends me a silly card every couple of weeks and that moment of silliness helps me get through the day, even when Mom is really having a tough time. I am so grateful for these moments that give us laughter. I agree with Frannie Em, get up and dance as well. Hugs.

Thanks to the other Joan, Joan Ganz Cooney, for turning this question around and asking: just WHEN should life be truly taken seriously — and then responding with all the maturity that that question seems to take for most. How foolish we are if we wallow in the mud, feeling sorry for ourselves, taking things out on others — all the rest. We have to move on, and when we do we usually find a rainbow around one of the next corners. BUT health problems are a whole other matter. We don’t shrug them off for ourselves; we show not only compassion for others who are suffering, but show in other ways that “we are there”. I guess is one of those times when the old “Do unto others . . .” is the good thing to remember. As for most of the rest of the irritations and pains caused by others in life, the best thing to do is to rise above them by keeping busy with new focus, new interests, and attract “new” others with the happy face. It “works” — and frankly, life is too short to “wallow”.