Laughter Is The Best Medicine

There is an old saying that “Laughter Is The Best Medicine” which I believe implicitly. If you cannot laugh at life as you go through it, it can get grim pretty quickly.

laughter is the best medicine

My late husband, Herman, was a great believer in the healing power of laughter. He was a clinical psychologist and would proudly tell me that his patients left his office smiling and laughing. He carried that laughter into our home and he plotted on the way home in his car how to make me, his prim and proper British wife, laugh over dinner that night. He made me laugh in many ways, including telling me how he advised couples how to “warm up” their relationship. No wonder they left his office smiling!

The Saga Of The Bus

However, the times he had me laughing the hardest were completely unplanned. I will tell you one such story. It was when he got Bells Palsy. One side of his face had badly drooped, he had an eye patch. His speech was barely comprehensible. He was not a pretty sight, but he wanted to resume seeing his patients and he was not able to drive, and therefore one morning I left him off at the Newton bus station, where he was bound for his Providence office.

Imagine my surprise, when the phone rang in my office a few hours later, and it was Herman on the phone, trying to speak. Our dialogue sounded like this

Herman. “Hi Hunee, ham in hew hork hity”

Me. “Herman is that you? Are you saying that you are in New York City?”

Herman. “Yes, I hot on the wong us”

Me. “Wrong bus? How in the heck did you manage that?”

Herman. “Hi patch, hood not see”

Me. Incredulously shaking my head, “I cannot come and to New York City to collect you. Just get on the next bus to Newton and I will figure out when you will probably arrive, and I will meet you.”

Later That Evening

Later that evening, after nightfall, I lay waiting in my parked car at the bus station and buses came and went. Where was he? Suddenly the apparition of my one-eyed 6′ 3″ tall husband opened my car door in an obvious panic and gesticulated wildly that I should drive away out of the parking lot as fast as I could. Nothing loath, pedal to the metal, in race car fashion, (a skill which my husband did not know I possessed), I sped out of the parking lot with my husband hanging on for dear life to the dashboard. When we had achieved a safe distance from the parking lot, I asked

“Care to tell me what is going on?”

Through his Bells Palsy impaired speech this is what he told me:

“I was looking for your car in the long line of parked cars, and, not seeing well with this eye patch, I did not realize there was more than one silver Honda. I thought I had found your car and finding the passenger door locked, I banged on it, saying “Honey Open The Door” to the woman in the driver’s seat whom I thought was you.

She backed away recoiling, hands up shrieking in horror, so I banged on the door even harder, “Lemme in, lemme in”. She shrieked again! Finally, I looked closer with my one eye and realized that it wasn’t you! Then I fled the scene as fast as I could; I was afraid she would call the police on me!”

I just hooted with laughter at my very crestfallen husband. I could see the local newspaper headlines in tomorrow’s newspaper –

“Well known Newton Psychologist with eye patch terrorizes woman in bus parking lot”

In conclusion; I honor the man in heaven who made me laugh every day, and I wish to carry on on his legacy. Laugh often and laugh loudly! Live life! Open your hearts and minds to the laughter around you every day. Just open your eyes- but you just might need both of them!

Posted in Health

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