For every man that eateth and drinketh, and seeth good of his labour, this is the gift of God.
I can remember the exact moment when the bleak fog that had filled my heart after my father’s death began to lift. It was at an executive meeting of CAMRA (Campaign for Real Ale) Victoria.
As you might expect beer did play a role but not in the way you’re thinking. I don’t drink. An odd admission for someone who is the member of an organization devoted to the promotion of high standards in the crafting, serving and consumption of beer. I may believe in the organization, but, unfortunately, the object of its attention does not agree with me in many ways.
Back to the meeting. It was progressing in the usual way of such things. I was paying the selective attention a secretary usually employs, monitoring for moments worthy of record but otherwise drifting on a small pond of my own thoughts. Another member of the executive, while chatting to her neighbour, blindly reached for a dish of snacks and found my cup of scalding hot tea. Dipped straight in.
No, that wasn’t the funny part although it did make me smile, despite the addition of salt and cheesy bits to my beverage. My friend pulled her hand back and shook it. Immediately she reached for her glass of beer–the sampling of the night was an excellent IPA, I believe–and tipped it enough to get her scalded fingers into the cool malty beverage.
Noticing the look of concern on the face of her neighbor, she began explaining her actions.
“I burned myself earlier today and that tea just brought it all back.”
“ah, okay…”
“the hops, you know, they’re very healing, and the tannins from the malts…great for burns.”
“I’m see, but, um…”
“I read all about this just the other day…it feels much better already. I bet I’ll hardly have a blister.”
“That’s great but…”
“Or maybe it was on CBC…”
“Yes, but,” he reached over, placed a hand on her arm,”that’s my glass”
I could see it coming but the timing could not have been more perfect had it been scripted. It was a 2 minute convulsion of eye wiping, gasping for breath, all out barking mad laughter. The meeting came to a dead stop as I nearly fell off my chair. I laughed like I hadn’t laughed for almost a year. And, really, I hadn’t.
Yes, I know it wasn’t that funny, that you had to be there, that not even the people involved found it anywhere near as hi-freaking-larious but, and this I can’t stress enough, it felt so good to know it was finally time to laugh.
Thanks to “I’m Looking Fabulous” for reminding me of just how important it is to keep laughing.
