humor is as silver of a lining as any

He tears me down on every side till I am gone;
he uproots my hope like a tree.

Job said it.

And he said it well.

And I draw comfort from those sad words, from a text that lets me know that deep sadness has been a part of our story since the first words were spoken; but it's not the end of Job's story.

And so maybe that means it's not the end of this story either.

And thank God for humor along the way. For the ridiculousness and utter comedy that is undeniable, that rises up and makes you laugh despite yourself.

Like what my pop said to me tonight. After staring at me quizzically for a few moments, of course. And when that happens, you never know quite what he is going to say. It might be the notion that we simply ask a friend of ours if we could borrow his wheelchair since my sister just got surgery on her knee and is not able to rip around on her own quite yet.

Um, pop? we all suggested. He might just need that wheelchair since he is, you know, paralyzed and all.

Or it could always just be a question.

Is this, he said, pointing to my hair, a mullet?

Laughing, my brother jumped to my defense right away and assured him that no, it is not in fact a mullet.

Though it's a little disturbing that he even had to ask at all.