2) Bedtime Jokes & Christmas Wishes

Whoever said the phrase “it gets easier with time” was lying. I found no peace after losing John. With each day that passed it felt more and more difficult. I spent what little energy I had trying to hold it together while at work.  (Most days I was unsuccessful-sorry kids!)  I couldn’t be alone, especially at night. For a while I bed hopped and would sleep in either my mom’s, sister’s, or sister-in-law’s bed. I started to feel like a burden (they insisted I wasn't) and knew I eventually had to start sleeping at my own home again. 

When I laid my head down on my pillow I would completely unravel. I was drowning in grief in the emptiness of my bed. I ordered 3 stuffed animals including a large Spiderman(long story). Even with these additions the nights were still brutal.  I would lay there sobbing as my body would shake uncontrollably. Just when I feared that I would explode from the pain, a very strange thing happened.

A joke would pop into my head.

Not a joke I heard before but an original one of my own.

At first it surprised me. But it kept happening night after night. It was the only thing that could calm me down. I started keeping a notebook next to my bed. When I thought of a good one I’d jump out of bed and jot it down. And once I wrote it in the notebook I would magically fall asleep for a few hours. 

The more jokes I wrote the more I wanted a chance to perform. Maybe, just maybe, I would be able to perform in honor of John. 

That’s all I wanted. Just one chance. One opportunity to get up on a stage with a microphone in my hand. I could do this for him.

I had myself a setlist. Now I just needed a place.

And then I thought of the perfect one.

Every year my family hosts a Christmas day dinner (lunch) in our grammar school cafeteria for those in the community who don’t have anywhere to go or anyone to spend it with.

My dad assigns each of us a role and I, the only one banned from the kitchen, am in charge of entertaining the guests while they wait for the food to be ready. Most years I do games like Christmas Bingo or Trivia but earlier that Fall I had been so excited to have John perform for them. Now that he was no longer here I decided I would perform in his honor.

In the days leading up to Christmas I worked so hard perfecting the routine. That morning I put on an outfit that was perfect for both Christmas and comedy and marched on into that cafeteria. 

This was my big moment. 

I took one step into the kitchen where my family and other volunteers were already gathered.

And I immediately burst into tears.

I didn’t feel merry. I didn’t feel joy. I only felt his absence.

I couldn’t even say Merry Christmas without crying. There was no way I could perform and had to get out of there right away.  I went over to my grandma’s who tried consoling me the only way that diabetic woman knew how. By offering me red and green M&Ms. I appreciated the chocolate but I was still so mad at myself. This was my one chance to perform standup for John and I blew it.

How would I ever get another chance?

The following entries of this blog will explain the series of events that led me to getting another chance.  Each week I will share with you the steps I took and the opportunities it led to.  

One thing I love about writing jokes and sketches is the neat and tidy bow I put on the endings. Writing a blog about my journey through grief and comedy is the complete opposite of that. I have no idea where any of this is leading. And that’s ok. But knowing how many more people now know about John and how special his love was just from reading my first post means everything.

I’ll share with you the highs and lows along the way. I just ask one thing from you. Please promise me that at no point while reading this blog will you think, “See everything happens for a reason. If John didn’t die she would never became a comedian.”

John did not have to die for me to be a comedian. I HAD to become a comedian because John died.

This blog will tell my tale through grief and comedy. But even if you’re not a griever or a comedian, there’s a chance you can get something out of this too.

Maybe this blog will give you hope. Maybe it will make you laugh. It has already made me cry.

But whatever it is that you’re going through. Whatever keeps you up at night. Just know that somewhere, in a tiny little condo, I am laying there, holding onto a Spiderman stuffed animal.

And I'm going to be ok.