Ronda Rich

Syndicated Columnist

It weighs on my heart and can be sobering.

Are we losing our sense of humor? Over the last few years, things have definitely changed. Most of our comedian friends have called quits to touring. One of them is even becoming a preacher.

At times, I see humorous friends, start to speak then say, “Never mind.”

I come from a witty family. My parents, my siblings, their kids: All are quick witted and entertaining with a story. That’s nice in the good times but in the hard times? We still find humor and it carries us through.

At Mama’s visitation, I stood at the foot of the casket, accepting condolences. Whenever a farmer asked, “If there’s anything I can do, just let me know.” I repeatedly replied, “Could you bush hog my pasture?”

Rodney, my brother-in-law, always one of the funniest people around, grins all the time. People came by me then approached my sister and Rodney at the head of the casket. Rodney heard all the stories. He slipped over to me.

“Hey dummy, stop askin’ everybody to bush hog for you.”

“They want to know what I need.”

He shook his head comically. “They don’t mean bush hoggin’.”

“It’s what I need.” Last year, one of Rodney’s barns burned. They’d been baling hay, pulled the tractor and baler into the large barn then went off for supper. Apparently, a spark from the baler set the dry grass on fire.

Years of hard work and memories were gone quickly. His mama’s and daddy’s last cars, my nephew’s first car, daddy’s welding machine and other farming equipment that Rodney had often bought on time over years. His daddy’s farm, before it was his, represented a hundred years of hard farming life.

Though my nephew dashed in – fire on the roof – to save a new skid steer, Rodney pushed an old truck out and a friend rescued the Gator, exiting moments before the roof caved, the rest was lost in the flames. The heroic firefighters kept it contained on dry ground so it didn’t spread to the barn with the newly baled hay.

The fire was so catastrophic, it made the front page of the newspaper.

Everyone cried. Even Tink blinked back his tears. I was standing alone, watching all the sadness unfold. Rodney, grinning, his blue eyes bright, walked over and nudged me. He sighed but did not lose his smile.

“Well, there goes my John Deere tractor.” His tone was so humorous, I had to laugh. It lightened the heaviness because Rodney was well known for loving his John Deere tractor.

The next day, Tink and I went to our tractor store to see about getting Rodney a new tractor. Kabe, the store owner, shook his head. “Rodney only likes John Deere. He wouldn’t want anything I’ve got.”

“Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion,” said Dolly Parton in Steel Magnolias.

A dear friend of mine, John Jarrard, was one of Nashville’s hit songwriters. Type Two diabetes took his sight while he was in college. Still, it did not stop him from finding his dream on Music Row and co-writing George Strait’s smash hit “Out of The Clear Blue Sky.”

John had a wonderful laugh. He didn’t pity himself but made the best of his circumstances. When he entered his forties, the insidious disease took more of John’s body. The last time I saw him, before he died from a failed kidney transplant, he was in a wheel chair.

I walked over and squeezed his hand. “I LOVE your new Tracy Lawrence song. It’s gonna be number one.” It was called “Is That A Tear I Hear?”

He grinned and thanked me. I gushed on, concluding with, “I love those twin fiddles at the beginning.”

From deep in his belly, he laughed heartily. “Only you would know it was twin fiddles.”

Let’s laugh more. It makes life easier. Especially in the hard times.

Ronda Rich is the best-author of the Stella Bankwell series. Please don’t miss Stella’s Christmas book, “A Merry Chatty Christmas.”