Laughter Lost

Mrs. Doubtfire came out shortly after my parents split. I was 9 years old, and that movie was one of the things that taught me that being a child of divorce might suck, but it was survivable. And sometimes, it was even, believe it or not, the best outcome for a family. 

I watched Aladdin eleven times the day I got it in the mail. We were poor, not destitute but definitely struggling, and the story of a diamond in the rough gave me hope. My Aunt bought it for us, and it painted a picture for us of a brighter future.

I have never in my life laughed as hard as I did watching his Live on Broadway in a cramped dorm room at Rice University in the summer of 2002. To this day, the magnitude and depth of every laugh is measured against that afternoon.

Patch Adams helped me understand what kind of a healer I wanted to be.

One day shortly after I started teaching English, I did it. I climbed up on a desk and exclaimed loudly, passionately about the magic and wonder and virtue of words. Of writing. I had seen my hero, my genie, my funny faced fantasmo do it, and I had believed. And I like to think that for a moment, just the briefest of moments, so did my students.

I knew he was a hero. I'm not sure until tonight that I realized to what degree or precisely why.

(Originally published on Facebook.)

Rest in peace, Funny Man. 

***

I'm not sure how many people read this, but if you're someone who struggles with depression and/or addiction, don't give up. 

There are people who can help, even if you've fallen down the rabbit hole once or twice or a dozen times before. 

There are people who love you, no matter what lies your disease whispers in your ears. 

There are people who understand what you're going through. I'm one of them. Let me help.

Let someone help.

American Foundation for Suicide Prevention
www.afsp.org

National Suicide Prevention Hotline
1-800-273-8255