I was talking on the phone with my sister, Meredith, the other day. You all know Meredith, right? We got to a point in the conversation where we journeyed down memory lane, sharing stories that have always made us laugh. We have been through some silly adventures together and we often find ourselves laughing about something. We are also able to find some dark humor in life’s challenges – as with our aging parents. It keeps us sane. Anyway, one story in particular makes us laugh so hard that we start crying. How about if I share it with you? At the risk of an all text post putting you off, I’ll share a few garden photos. (I don’t like using photos from the web, I’d much rather share my own.) This will be the first in an occasional series.
Many years ago, my dad took an early retirement and one day, much to our collective surprise, our parents announced they were selling our childhood home and moving ‘up north’ to Rogers City, MI. Rogers City is a small town on Lake Huron at the top of the ‘mitten’ that is lower Michigan. They bought a lovely home with 5 bedrooms (2 more than our family of 6 had during our youth – how ironic) and we proceeded to gather there at Christmas time. Now, we were all adults at this point: Meredith was the youngest of the kids, my brother Dave was the oldest. I was in my thirties. Meredith was in her twenties. We had careers. We were living on our own.
Now, just to let you know a little about my mom, she has a wonderful sense of humor. Many is the time we laughed ourselves silly over something. There is one area of life, though, that she was deadly serious about: church. When she moved up to Rogers City, she started attending a tiny little Episcopal church on the edge of Lake Huron. When I say tiny, I mean it seated about 50 people, tops. Charming. But teeny tiny.
Cut to Christmas Eve. All the kids were home. Mom was thrilled that we would all be in her church on Christmas Eve. She wanted to show us off. This little church shared a minister with two other churches, so services had to be scheduled at different times in order for the minister to travel between congregations.
There were several inches of snow on the ground and it was very, very cold.
We arrived at the church, bundled in our coats. No space for a coat rack, so we did that thing you do while sitting in a pew; after sitting down, we took off our coats and arranged them around us.
We grew up in a Lutheran church, so the practice of using incense during a church service was new to us. Unfortunately, they went a little crazy with the incense and the smell of it took over the tiny church.
The service still hadn’t started. Clearly there was some sort of delay going on, as evidenced by stage whispers between the organist and someone else as to “Where is the minister?” “I don’t know!” This was long before cell phones became a part of everyday life, so no one could call him.
Along with the ongoing back and forth about the minister’s whereabouts, there were also whispered conversations about “Where is the baby Jesus?” “He’s missing!” “Who saw him last?”
Baby Jesus was missing from the rather large creche.
Meredith and I were sitting next to each other. My mom was right next to us. Meredith and I started to exchange glances as the quite audible whispers grew more and more frantic. We started to giggle. Just a bit. Then a little bit more.
Meanwhile, we waited for the minister.
The incense was overpowering.
Finally, the minister arrived. There was no back entrance in the church. He simply came in the front door, was greeted by the whisperers, shucked his coat, and made his way up the aisle. The baby Jesus had been found – where, I don’t know. The long delayed service was just about to start.
We were still a bit giggly. We’d been on the receiving end of a few quelling looks from my mom.
The service started. We picked up our hymnals and started singing the opening hymn. In the usual fashion, we remained standing while the minister greeted us and read from the opening of the liturgy.
Then we received the signal to sit down.
It was totally quiet in the church. You could hear a pin drop.
Meredith was on my left. You know how you reach back to make sure your coat is arranged against the back of the pew in a way that allows you to sit down without sitting on the coat? Well, Meredith looked back and to her right, I looked back and to my left.
We clunked heads.
Now, when I say we clunked heads, I mean we clunked them so hard that it sounded like two bowling balls had crashed into each other. The sound was deafening. Everyone in the church turned toward the unexpected sound.
We saw stars. Our heads hurt. The sound of the clunk reverberated throughout the church.
And we started laughing. Uh oh. Can’t laugh in church, especially with Mom there. So we tried to not laugh. We bit down on our lips. We thought about serious, weighty issues. We wouldn’t, couldn’t, look at each other. None of it worked. On went the service. My mother gave us more than a few razor-sharp ‘Stop it!’ looks. We couldn’t stop. Honestly, we tried. But the more we tried to stop, the more we laughed. Most of this laughter involved shoulders shaking, tears streaming down our faces, and most of it was inaudible to anyone but immediate family. Every once in a while, though, a quite audible gurgle of laugher would escape and we’d clamp back down on it.
We were in full view of the minister and the rest of the tiny congregation. It was impossible not to see what was going on.
My mother was furious with us. Her lips compressed into such a thin line that I thought she might explode. Or turn to her immediate left and shake me. With great willpower on her part, she refrained from throttling me.
She simply would not look at us. One can only imagine the thoughts going through her head.
At times we would seemingly get control; we’d wipe our eyes, take a deep breath and think “Okay! This is finally over.”
Then one of us would remember the sound of the bowling ball clunk and we’d be off again.
This went on for at least twenty to thirty minutes.
I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard in my life.
Church services. Funerals. Important speeches. Occasions of state. One is not supposed to laugh in these situations.
Needless to say, my mother would not speak to us the rest of the night.
I remember looking down the pew in my dad’s direction. He had a grin on his face. He got it.
Not Mom.
Now, these many years later, we will talk about this incident like we did the other day and find ourselves engulfed in laughter. Once again, tears stream down our faces. We cannot stop laughing.
Mom never, not even years later, found the situation remotely funny. We’d try to make her laugh about it. She would have none of it.
Meredith and I, by the way, have been know to literally (and I really mean literally) fall down laughing. There’s another story about that for another time.
Laughter, even laughter in church, is the best medicine.
Happy Thursday.
Hi Claudia, Thanks for sharing this funny story. I was shaking with laughter, would have been laughing aloud if I were a bit more awake. I was raised by very strict, “proper” parents and had 4 siblings. Usually it was the girls who would get to giggling at a meal, a prayer, or some other time deemed inappropriate for mirth. The fact that we were not supposed to be laughing made it impossible not to laugh. I think my Mom was more sympathetic to our predicament but my Dad, though he usually didn’t say anything, would give us searing looks. If felt dangerous, but that only seemed to keep the giggles coming. So I can identify so well with your story, can hear and feel the clunked heads and the irrepressible giggles.
If someone doesn’t want me to laugh, it’s awfully hard not to!
fun story and reminded me of a family story. We all were celebrating Christmas at my in law’s. we had all settled onto a couple of pews, the service started, the family looked at the short squat big round Christmas tree up front…my bro in law leans over and says ” it’s the burning bush, not a Christmas tree”. Needless to say the pew shook on and off for an hour!
So funny, Gayle!
Haha….what a great story, I was laughing all the way through it. We kids shared a few giggles during church as well. At the celebration of our grandparents’ silver wedding anniversary. Our aunt Irene (who I might add prided herself in singing like a bird and making all her own clothes, without a pattern mind you) got up to sing “I Love You Truly”…our little sister, Kelley, was only 3 or 4 years old. The song went on and on with our aunt standing directly in front of our family. When she had (finally) finished the song, our little sister let out a very loud sigh. Everyone chuckled (very quietly, probably feeling the same way Kelley did) but my sister, brother and I couldn’t stop laughing. We tried, as you did, to stifle our giggles, only making it worse. Unfortunately, we were sitting front and center…it was not a pretty sight. To this day (some 40 years later) we laugh as if it were yesterday. Thanks, once again for sharing !
I can just hear that sigh. I would have been a mass of giggles.
HA ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ,LOL LOL LOL ROFLMBO! HA HA HA HA HA ! My Mom to a tee! Loved it ,Claudia what a great writer you are!! -Judy A-
Thanks, Judy!
Wow, Claudia, thanks! I woke up feeling so blah, and your post lifted my spirits immediately! I remember a time when all of us were misbehaving in church and my mother’s back was growing straigher by the minute and her lips were compressed into a very small straight line. As the minister recited the benediction, a kindly old gentlemen sitting right behind us must have taken mercy on us, because he leaned forward and tapped my mother on the shoulder and said, just loud enough for all of us to hear, “what charming, well-behaved children you have to sit through such a long service.” How could she discipline us after that remark?! Your garden pictures are so lovely and bring me so much pleasure–thank you for sharing them with all of us. I wish I had more time with my camera, but by the time I get home from work and get supper finished, I’m exhausted! Take care, my friend. xxoo, Martha
That older gentleman was a prince, Martha!
I so agree!! Laughter should be in church also. Since I’m a humorous person and love a really good laugh, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Sometimes in church the speaker will show a great sense of humor and it’s a good thing. Our bishop doesn’t speak; the congregation speaks in our church and that’s definitely a GOOD thing. We teach each other. But it makes for never being dull just listening to one person every week. I love this because the youth speak also. Four speakers every Sunday. Makes for not having to listen to dull or non-humorous people all the time. It’s when my family visits that we start laughing the most in church though. :-) I believe the Lord has a sense of humor also, definitely!!!!!
xoxo,
Connie
Yes, I’ve had some moments in the past where I had to hold back a laugh at an inappropriate time. It can be so difficult. Churches were more formal some years back, but I think they’ve gotten a little more relaxed over the years. Today others would probably laugh with you…maybe even your mom.
Connie R U LDS? Where are you? Judy A-
I mean Connie, Are you LDS? And where are you?
Yes, she is, Judy. She’s in Idaho.
Thank-You Claudia, Her Church Services sounded pretty identical to mine! -Judy A- lol
I think He has to have a sense of humor, Connie!
Funny story!!! it is good to reminisce about things like that…nothing wrong with getting the giggles.
I do remember those glaring eyes from my Mom too…who also had a sense of humor.
The glaring eyes… on MOST OCCASIONS made the situation THAT MUCH FUNNIER!!! (and harder to resist laughing)
I love the feeling you get after laughing that hard…you know? The eyes glaze over, making everything blurry, the side aches and the face muscles twinge …and at that moment, even the saddest situation or gravest matter, brings to light that you are, in fact, ALIVE!!!! AND HAPPY FOR IT.
…{smiles} Pat
It is the best feeling in the world, Pat. Totally freeing.
thanks Claudia,
When I got to the part where you hit heads, I started laughing thinking about it. It reminds me of a time when I was on a band trip with my daughters. A group of girls were sitting together waiting to go on the field and we started laughing about something, now I was the adult chaperone but I was laughing right along with them. The band director, a male, came over and asked what was so funny. We just looked at each other and laughed harder. He said “it must be a girl thing” and left.
It’s hard to explain what is so funny to someone who wasn’t there, isn’t it?
What a great story..It seems that the harder you try to stop laughing..the more you keep laughing..Thanks for giving me a laugh today..I would love to hear more stories like this one..
Oh, you will, Nancy.
Well, they say church is supposed to be a place of joy :)
Well, of course, my mother would disagree with you (at least in this case!)
Love your story and also Lori’s story above in the comments. Joy is a sacred part of life.
Yes it is, Nancy.
I loved your story. Thank you for making me laugh on this dreary rainy day in SE Indiana! Like some of your other readers, it reminded me of a similar story. My husband, four daughters and myself were sitting in church. The pew was filled so our four daughter sat in the pew directly in front of us. The youngest daughter who was eight at the time fell asleep during the long sermon. She was sitting next to an older gentleman who had also nodded off a time or two. When she fell asleep, her head fell back and hit the pew and it sounded like a gun shot. It scared all of us but especially the older gentleman sitting next to her. He was asleep, Bible open in his lap, ink pen in his hand and when her head hit that pew and made that loud sound, he jumped and threw his ink pen into the air. Needless to say, everyone around there was laughing and trying their best not too! The pastor kept on with his sermon but with some questioning looks toward our side of the church. When we all finally regained our composure, our daughter just had to sit up straight, look around at us and rub the back of her head. That set us all off again. Great memories……thank you so much for your wonderful story and for reminding me of mine!! Have a great day.
What a great story, Lorinda. I would have been laughing my head off!
I’ve told my sister to read this post because the same thing happened to us in just such a tiny church. The more we held the laughter in, the more it burst out and each time it got louder! Of course, we were seated at the front of the church. The worst part is, we were laughing because the minister was somewhat senile, kept losing his place in the sermon and starting all over again. We finally had to get up and walk down the whole length of the aisle to let the poor man get on with it in peace. I’m ashamed of my behaviour to this day but all I have to do is say the first line of that sermon and my sister and I are in hysterics again!
I remember getting panicked and thinking I would have to leave the church and stand outside in the freezing weather.
Thanks for the chuckles..My sister and I had a similar experience when we were little..You put a little brightness in this gloomy day..
Glad it made you laugh, Missy!
This reminds me of the time a few years ago that I made my sister laugh so hard she wet her pants.
Oh, I’ve got a story about that, too, Paula!
Claudia, I love Pat’s description of how good it feels to laugh! I burst out loud laughing to when I read about the head clunking! Boy, there’s nothing more exciting than a case of the “church giggles”! You and Meredith will laugh and share this wonderful memory forever.
I feels so good to laugh like that, Annette. I think that after it’s over, you feel just like you’ve had a great massage.
Oh laughter is the best medicine! I know when you aren’t suppose to laugh is the hardest time to stop! Love the story and that you share it with you great sister! I look forward to more stories!
hugs,
Linda
Great story! There is, quite honestly, nothing better than a sister!
Let the little children come unto Me
Clunked heads and all! :)
I don’t know how ministers can keep a straight face with all they are able to see!
How funny.
I was actually laughing out loud reading your story! Brought back so many memories of me and my friend in church, trying to be quiet but giggling over anything we thought was funny at the time – which was pretty much everything when we were young teens.
I’ve also been on the mom end…one story that I will never forget is when I was in church and my son, Phil who was about 2-1/2 years old at the time, was standing on the pew seat next to me during a prayer. It was totally quiet in the church except for the prayer being said. Phil kept leaning forward and catching himself on the wooden edging of the pew in front of him. I just knew he was going to miss and fall face-first into the pew or on the floor. So I grabbed his arm (not hard) and hissed, “Stop it!” He exclaimed VERY loudly…”One more time and I’ll spank your butt!” I could see all the grown-ups trying to stifle their laughter, but I simply wanted to disappear into a hole…
Love this memory, Claudia. My mother and I were known to have similar episodes in the past, but it never happened to us in church. I miss those times.