All I Want for Christmas is Laughter
...and a new watch and an air fryer but laughter is important too.
I went through several ideas in determining what I wanted to write about when it came to the holidays. I toyed with reflecting on the best gifts of the past. I contemplated exploring my mother’s famed over-the-top present wrapping skills. I considered diving into my deep embarrassing love of corny Christmas movies. I entertained writing about recent traditions that have blossomed in my family, like eating takeout in our pajamas on Christmas Eve. But something else has caught my fancy. A recent visit to my hometown stirred up a dominant holiday memory—laughter. In early December, sitting with my father, brother and sister-in-law, we entered into a series of playful exchanges that quickly developed into deep laughter. The kind of laughter where tears are streaming down your face and you can’t talk. I could try to describe the commentary but it just wouldn’t be funny to you...you had to be there. This exchange had to do with camels and just writing that, makes me giggle.
Camels aside, the internet tells me that an average child laughs about 300 times a day and an adult only 17 times a day. Although I could not track down the original source of these numbers, I am very comfortable believing that children laugh a lot and adults much less. Research suggests that perhaps adults can benefit from laughing a little more. The benefits to laughter range from improved immune function, pain reduction, lower stress and a greater sense of connection. There are things like laughter therapy and laughter yoga. It sounds like laughter is indeed a good thing and I am inclined to agree. As with most elements of the human experience, there are still a lot unknowns as to why we laugh or what exactly humor is and how it works. And for those who like to collect trivia facts—the study of laughter is gelotology, which really is not as funny a word as one would hope for.
So, how is it that laughter is a holiday memory? Primarily because it has always been present at my family’s gatherings. We are a big family and when all together, it gets loud and raucous, but it’s splendid. We are kind of funny, in that we do funny things, like have Christmas eve costume contests (with a trophy) or cutthroat gift exchanges. When I reflect on my childhood memories, laughter is at the core. It shows up in all its forms, from giggles to guffaws, woven into my template for joy from early on. Holidays were never perfect but imperfect moments made for great stories. And great stories equal more laughter later. Even during the more difficult holidays, laughter was present. As we slowly said good bye to my mother during her battle with cancer, laughter still accompanied us. In fact, our family was scolded at hospice for laughing too loudly. Laughter was a link to that template for joy during a time that felt anything but joyful.
The phrase if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry couldn’t be more relevant than in parenting. A lot of the day to day is not particularly funny. There are moments but it’s not a comedy club vibe. We do however, accumulate a lot of stories. In real time these events do not invite chuckling but they become a story for later. It’s like laughter on lay-away. Delay of gratification is required in so much of parenting. Maybe it’s helpful to hold the belief in parenthood that a lot of what happens during your day is really just future laughter. If day has gone in the toilet, a possible reframe is that the universe is gifting you upcoming amusement.
Building family traditions with a young children is not for the faint of heart. There are the things you imagine in your head and then there is the reality. The viewpoint of magic has changed, now being in charge of the delivery. This responsibility can take some of the shine away. It’s easy to get swept up in the tasks of the holiday which feels much less… joyful. Reflecting on my childhood memories of laughter I see how it has shaped how I recognize joy. These moments were not manufactured or produced. Some of the beauty was the spontaneity. There was no schedule for laughter or expectation that it would occur. The formula was to be together and let it unfold. Perhaps this is something to hold onto this holiday season, remembering to allow space for things to unfold…whatever form that takes.
This trip down memory lane, stirs the question: what templates are forming for my children? How will they know joy to be? In recent years we have stayed home for the holidays with just our chaos crew, given all of the challenges of modern life (busy schedules, pandemics and traveling with young kids). So it is quieter and louder, at the same time. Time will tell as to what the holiday memories they hold will be. I do hope for laughter somewhere in there.
This was such a delightful read and I’ve often turned to laughter in somber, sobering times. What are your thoughts about this: I feel like adults we lose our sense of playfulness which diminishes the chances/opportunities for laughter. As kids, with play as the primary goal, those opportunities are abundant. Do you think that’s a part of the disparity?
We are not a perfect family. But we definitely know how to laugh. For that, I am always grateful.