For most of my life, I considered humor and laughter pure enjoyment. I didn't attach the whys to why I laughed. I would practically cry while laughing at someone like Jackie Gleason without considering why. The thought of humor being a tool of my psyche didn't matter. I never used it intentionally because I needed it to be a pure escape from being numb. Maybe it's a sign of healing that I’m open to enjoying all facets of what I find funny. My mother is 89 and lives on her own, 900 miles away. We make light humor when she talks about her anxieties. But I recognize the dynamics baked into the moment we laugh. It feels like sadness, acceptance, and revival.