Laughter More Precious than Diamonds

Today is my mother's birthday, something for which I'm truly grateful.

I had been planning since the weekend what I could do to make it feel special for her. I haven't been able to coax her out of the house since Thanksgiving (although I felt like I came close a few times), so dinner at a nice restaurant was out, at least for now. After much thought, I decided I'd spend the evening with her watching one of her favorite movies, "Bye, Bye Birdie."

We actually did this over the weekend and she really enjoyed it (different movie). Well... you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men...

I picked up a card and gift for her on yesterday, came home wrapped it up and then went looking through my DVD collection for the movie—which I'm 99 percent sure I own (it's also one of my favorites)—but couldn't find it, anywhere. Undaunted, I stopped by Target after work thinking I could pick up another copy. They used to have a $5.00 DVD section filled with really old movies. Not anymore. (I did see a few potentially worthy substitutes, but decided to pass.) I was a bit disappointed. She really does like this movie, and more importantly, it makes her laugh.

Before her still mysterious health problems emerged, my mother laughed quite often, at least it seemed that way. She'd turn on her favorite comedy program, or ask one of us to pop in a funny DVD for her, just so she could enjoy a good laugh. Sometimes she'd ask for the great grandkids to make a visit so she could enjoy laughing with them (they enjoyed laughing with grandma, before the moody teen years hit!).

My mother liked to laugh; she said it was good medicine. She had Scripture to back it up (Proverbs 17:22). In fact, while I was growing up—especially during my moody teen years—and since I've been an adult, whenever I was going through a rough spell, she'd quote that Scripture to me often in addition to singing me songs about laughing or smiling. I must know two dozen or so such songs now (I may start using them on the moody teenagers).

Things have been a bit different the past couple of years and there's been a lot less laughter. I do understand. But I miss my mother's laugh—we all do. And when we do hear one, or see even the slightest hint of a smile, it seems more precious than diamonds.

I suppose that's all I really wanted to give my mother for her birthday: the gift of laughter. It's good medicine. With no DVD to rely on, I walked into my parents' house, smiled my biggest, cheesiest smile, and sang "Happy Birthday" to my mother as loud as I could. Then I just waited... She looked at me strangely for a moment, and then... she laughed!

Thank you, God!