We laugh our way home

Eastertide is a very good time for laughing, dancing, and other breathless acts of joy. 

But first, some artwork from Adele: 

"My Family," by Adele. Miles is the first. Don't we look formidable?!

I saw a poster a few weeks back featuring Maz Jobrani with the news that he would be part of the Islamic Worlds Festival at Virginia Tech, 2015. Maz Jobrani! Actually on campus! We love his stuff and I was thrilled to find we could make a discount date of it with our student IDs. 

Back in January, I made the resolution to make this a year of laughter. What better way to keep it? 

Maz was not the only comedian. I hadn't heard of Maysoon Zayid before this spring, but I watched her Ted Talk before the show to increase my anticipation. She is hilarious! I couldn't wait to be in the same room with her. 

Miraculously, we even got a babysitter. Thank you, Debra! 

The sunset was closing in as we arrived at the Arts Center. I told Jon, "I love living in Blacksburg because we can leave home for an 8:00 event at 7:47, arrive, park, and walk in before it starts." 

The international community in Blacksburg is substantial, but only at certain events do they outnumber American-born folks. This was one. As we arrived, lines of devout Muslims were saying evening prayers before the show began. It was beautiful. 

Neither Maysoon nor Maz disappointed! We were laughing straight through. 

I got giddy halfway through Maz's show. You know the feeling; lightheaded, a bit wheezy, and, for me, triggery. But I remembered my resolution. I took a break, breathed, tuned out... and then tuned back in for a second round. Praise God/Allah.

Saturday night was another brilliant time, as our church was hosting a BBQ/concert. The weather was absolutely perfect. The BBQ was tangy. The band was fun and the turnout exceeded expectations. 

Afterward, the band leader told me, "I thought I was in a Norman Rockwell painting. I expected a sudsy dog to come barreling through any moment. It was just so perfect, with the happy kids and the smiling seniors, and the dancing!" He was right. 

They played 70s rock hits, and I danced with Miles, and some of the other kids who were willing. The kids ran feral in the fenced yard. What a perfect, golden evening. 

The band dedicated their last song to Miles, because he took every chance he get to sneak away and hang out in their tent. He was flabbergasted by the fame! After dancing with me vigorously (the song was "Signed, Sealed and Delivered" by Stevie), he said earnestly, "Thank you for playing my song!" He got a good laugh.

After the band cleared up, we had an after-part in the curate's yard (which backs up to the church). There was a prolonged battle featuring jedi, knights, and good and bad princesses. The adults intervened when things turned tearful or violent (once when a young girl got knocked down and went crying to her mother, another boy was heard to proclaim, "The bad princess is dead!" Some intervention was necessary), but mainly, we enjoyed each other's company. And drank beer. Hallelujah, resurrection sure feels good.

There have been some interruptions to sleep. Miles has been going through a rough stage which missed sleep aggravates: there are tantrums, and just generally a lot of emotion. But we made our butterflies in children's chapel (from coffee filters, Melissa! in manner of Saint Anne LaMott) and the good people at church encouraged me.

The struggle is real. But the struggle is cute, too. 

And there has been sidewalk play, supervised and un. Lots of chalk art has resulted. And the sun has shined on our days.

Learning to blow music from grass

There is so much that is up in the air. So much that feels like life is holding its breath. We do not know much at all about next year.

But if we have to wait, Eastertide seems a good enough time for it.