|photo by Jean Ann Williams|
I stepped on the rake and the handle hit me on the nose, and Joshua roared in laughter.
I frowned and turned. Joshua was holding his stomach and pointing. His dad grinned.
“It’s not funny,” I said with a pout. My nose felt hot to the touch. With Joshua now doubled over, having a rip-roaring time at my expense, I snapped at him. “I may have broken my nose, Josh.”
He calmed his laughter long enough to say, “That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen, Mom. Like a comedy skit.” He mimicked what he saw and said, “She steps on the rake tines and bop, gets hit in the nose.”
That did it.
I stomped past him and into the house. Tears stung my eyes as I peered into the mirror. My nose looked like Rudolf’s, and then it dawned on me. My son laughed. I couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed. I made my son happy. Still looking in the mirror, my features relaxed. I nodded and smiled. “It was worth it.”
I met Joshua in the hall and touched his arm. “That must have looked funny, huh?”
Joshua beamed. “That was classic, Mom, just classic.”
That night in bed, I grinned and thanked God that I made my son happy, even if my nose still hurt. Little did I know Joshua would never laugh again.
In a few short weeks, Joshua would take his own life.
Father, I’m glad my son had laughter one more time before his death. In Jesus’s name, I’m grateful. Amen.
~Your Mother Memories~
~Your Prayer of Praise~
~A Scripture of Encouragement~