Fine Line Between Laughing and Crying..

Is it just me? Probably not. I have done it before, did it again last night. It's very strange, I've researched it on the web and find that indeed, I'm not the only one. I'm not saying there are hoards and hoards of folks lined up with this issue, simply, I'm not the only one. Huge sigh of relief. I won't recount the entire story, I'm not up for pages on the blog tonight but I will tell you it started with me being sad, crying, emotional. In the middle of the night, actually woke up at 4 am, staring at the wall, thoughts racing, landing softly on Lucas. There are certain memories of him that evoke the strongest reactions and as I've said before, I've no control of when they come or not, it's usually something out of my control that sets off a memory. Sometimes it's even something someone unwittingly says, truly having no clue that what they said, set me off on the path of no short return. Having my private pre dawn early morning moment in the dark, I started sneezing. Holding them in not to wake anyone, one after the other, until I thought, 'I hope I don't have a sneezing attack' and this thought led to 'what if I was at work and had a sneezing attack' and 'what if I bashed my head on the desk in a sneezing fit'....this evoked outward laughter from me. I held my hand to my mouth (well hell, I guess I'm telling you the story now aren't I?) to try to hold it all in and I brought control and quiet in a forced way. Then my thoughts went from thing to thing to thing till finally they ended up that this would be a great prank (yet two moments earlier I was crying uncontrollably, quietly and softly but no control) I could play on someone at work. Then I go step by step how I'd play it out, how it would work, and how it would turn out till the reveal of the prank on this person that deserves it and I burst out laughing in the middle of my dark bedroom with my husband, the Littlest (don't ask), my sweet little nephew (don't ask) and me. I feel the bed move in a sudden jerk and hear my husbands sharp quite loud 'chhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh' like a low whistle but sort of a "shhhhhhhhhh"? This made me erupt in serious uncontrollable laughter. Fur real. I had to quietly and quickly get up from the bed hand to mouth, unable to breathe, laughing hysterically (help me), and leave the room. Halfway down the dark hallway I burst into tears.

I suppose the same emotions that drive laughter are intrinsically tied to those that drive crying. You use the same facial muscles and your breathing is quiet similar...and you know, it helps when you are actually unstable and crazy like I am...so there you go. I often wonder how I make it through my days whole. If you only knew how many things I hear, see, or remember that set me off on this path of remembering, brimming tears, sometimes happy memories of holding Lucas, rocking him, feeding him, playing etc and sometimes even listening to the sanity (or insanity) of another parent in some facet who too has lost a child.

Two nights ago, my husband and I were watching a show, what was it......of course, I cannot recall, but I do remember that the father was saying, in some scenario that (paraphrasing) he remembered his wife saying she did not think people understood how driven she was that nothing happen to her children because if something did happen to one of them, and she lost another one, she could not go through that again. She was overprotective to a fault and I think she ultimately committed suicide. Whatever show we were watching insinuated that he may have killed her but the official report is she killed herself in the end. A couple who clearly did not make it after the death of their child. Now. I'm not saying that is me, or that is him, or that is us. We've been through all of that and back. The part that still exists (I guess I am writing pages tonight..) is the overprotective part. For both of us, but if I had to measure who was more overprotective, I'd say my honey wins that one. I personally think it's his way of dealing with Lucas' death but also and probably more predominantly because what that man said his wife said and felt, is flowing through his (and our) veins as well. I think it's our biggest fear. It's the top layer of us and the bottom layer of us. We are happy. We laugh. We joke. Oh yeah, we really are, we really do and we really really do..but beneath it, fine line beneath it, lies the fear. Just a pin prick and you'll find a deep chasm of fear for our childrens' safety. All parents have it. We have it exponentially so. A couple more heaps on the plate of it.

ex: We were at the park last Sunday with the boys. I had the Littlest, he had the Oldest. We were near bleachers. The Littlest wanted to climb them. I allowed it but I was right there. Right.There. Sadly, actually thinking he was going to fall, probably not giving him enough credit as he's pretty agile and athletic. Along come two little girls, his age, with their parents and a dog. The little girls see the Littlest and decide they want to climb too (this stresses me immediately) and the parents don't even flinch, they keep walking, they never even come stand by the bleachers to make sure they were safe. Of course, I'm in disbelief (yes it's bad) and I watch them FOR them, and as I see the backs of their parents, I think, "they have no idea" and the irony is probably that I need to get a clue. Let go. Let them fall more. Don't expect the worst. Keep a watchful eye but ease up. But then, what if.......??

That fine line between laughing and crying, it's there for everyone. I'm in touch with my line, like real close. When I still cry for Lucas, for what happened, which isn't as much as before but still very real, it's for so many things. Maybe the biggest thing now is what it has meant for us. Hard to explain.

I am the responsible one. I try to think clearly always. I always try to see both sides whether I'm right or wrong. Some people walk around thinking they are always right. Sad. For me, when I'm wrong, I try to say it right out. Dig deep, get past the pride and just say it. What does this have to do with any of the above? Everything. It's because I'm responsible and a level attempt at clear headedness that all of this drives me mad. Makes me feel I MUST be mad. How did I get to be this way? Overly analytical and have to talk things through seven ways till Sunday....

I guess tis' me. Plain and simple. The laughing, the crying, it's all part and parcel. Take it or leave it. I guess I have no choice. I have to take it. I can't change it. So there you go. Venting complete. Therapy session done. It's a wrap.

J