Who I am.

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For it to be possible to tell you who I am, you would have had to be there for every time I laughed. A laugh is the gateway to all that I have ever known, all that I ever loved, and all that I respect. One might argue that tears are more revealing, but I believe that laughs are much easier to open up about and share. Almost every laugh is unique and special to someone.

A small boy sat on the stool by his wise grandmother at the piano.

“Sing that song about mommy and Santa!” the boy requested.

“Okay,” she said as she smiled and pulled out the sheet music. She already knew the song, but she knew that the boy liked to see the music and words. She was so patient with him in every way.

As she started playing she sang softly to him:

I Saw mommy kissing Santa Clause,

Underneath the mistletoe last night…

When the grandma poked the small boy on the nose he grinned with her and laughed, “Again, Again!”

Laughs learn to cry and to tread softly. There are times to laugh and times to cry, and part of growing up is knowing when to laugh and when to cry.

A grown boy was floating on an inter-tube on a river that ran through the underwater caves in Belize. The cave was illuminated by the openings in ceiling and from the headlamps attached to the touring group. The current was slow and swift like the tone of an Indian’s voice telling a great story by the fire. Next to the boy was his brother’s friend who made him laugh and liked to sing everything, even though sometimes he was tone deaf.

The brother’s friend was cradling his headlamp like a safety blanket, flickering it quickly to the darkest spots in the cave. Just before the grown boy was going to ask the brother’s friend he floated by to hear him sing to himself:

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine...

Let is shine, let it shine…

The groan boy laughed, not at him, but for him.

Life is funny. When you think you don’t know where the next step is, or how the slump will finally turn around, life just pops up right in front of you and makes you think: wow, there it is.

A young man now stands in a choir of over one hundred peers, equals, friends, before family, and admirers.

 The director started moving his hands, and with them the voices of the one hundred strong. The song was so strong and structured; the young man could almost see vivid colors:

If you would mourn me, and bring me to god,

Sing me a requiem, sing me to heaven.

The last chord stuck and let go with the director’s hands… The young man laughed.

Give me the foothold on man and women’s greatest quest: to find answers. You will never know me, but you can understand me. I am someone who has so many fingers but no flute. I have yet to laugh at life’s greatest jest: What will I do for the rest of my life? Put a flute in my hand and I promise you I will write a symphony. Give me the punch line to my life, I want to laugh.