My Father's Daughter

Laughter: the best medicine, or the best therapy?


My husband laughs in his sleep. The man is so happy his joy spills over into his dreams. How is that possible?

I’ve never known anyone as generally happy as Phil. I’ve been searching the apartment for a hidden stash of morphine lifted from the hospital, but he’s been like this the whole time I’ve known him (granted, not a very long time, but we’re working on that). True, I do wonder if he should be animated, or a very large puppet, but when I want to be angry or sad or frustrated and Phil disarms me with laughter, I know why God put us together. Not that his good humour is always wholly embraced by yours truly — ever want to slap the silly grin off someone’s face? The grouchy cynic in me does. What a challenge for me to focus on the joy of Christ; what a blessing to live with someone who does!

So, what is it like living with Mr.-blue-bird-on-his-shoulder? I can tell you what it is like to live life as a musical (thankfully, without “choreographed movement”). I can tell you that a grown-man excited about a new vacuum cleaner can look an awful lot like a 10-year-old excited about a new bike. I can tell you that the inner joy of knowing God mirrors the inner peace of knowing God and can bring comfort to those around you.

P.S. Suggestions for the cartoon/muppet that Phil most resembles (real or imagined) are completely encouraged.


2 thoughts on “Laughter: the best medicine, or the best therapy?

  1. It’s easy hez… Fozzie Bear(wokka wokka)

  2. I don’t know who posted the last comment about Fozzie Bear but I was struck at how ABSOLUTELY RIGHT that person is. When I met Phil the first time this past fall, I think that’s who I was thinking of…Fozzie!


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