Back in the fall of 1973, Life in the Boomer Lane met Miki, a fellow special ed teacher. Miki was tall. Her legs started at her ankles and ended at LBL’s neck. Her life experiences were as different from LBL’s as could possibly be. There were a lot of reasons why they connected. But the glue that cemented thier friendship was a quirky, irreverent sense of humor that had other people shaking their heads in bewilderment.
The summer after their year of teaching together, they hit the road for a trip to Florida. LBL stayed with another teacher. Miki stayed with someone far more sexually exciting. One evening, the two went to a restaurant for dinner. During the meal, there was a sudden blast of mechanical laughter. Had it been now, LBL would have assumed that Miki had chosen an obnoxious cell ringtone. But in that pre-cell era, she was merely mystified. The laughter was deafening and wouldn’t stop.
Miki got a stricken look on her face and started fumbling around in her oversize purse. After awhile, she extracated a small laugh machine that she had purchased the day before, at Disney World. Miki quickly turned the machine off. The two looked at each other, with exactly the same thought in mind. That nght, around 2 AM, Miki showed up at the apartment complex where LBL was staying. LBL jumped into the car and the two of them drove around the complex with the car windows down and the laugh machine on at full volume. Incredibly, no one called the police. As LBL wiped the tears from her face, all she could think was, “I’m a married woman. I’m a special ed teacher, with the responsibility for young children. I’m in my late twenties, an adult by any standard. I am a sane, responsible person. This is really embarrassing, and I hope I never stop doing things like this.”
Eventually, Miki succumbed to tradition. She got married, and she had a daughter. When her daughter was about four years old, Miki was diagnosed with breast cancer. For five years, she fought the disease. During that time, she and LBL attended a clothing sale to benefit breast cancer research. The place was packed. Many women in attendance were survivors. Th clothing being sold took second place to the stories of the women gathered, standing in the hotel ballroom, behind a long red rope. LBL and Miki dutifully waited for the event to open, along with the others.
The event and the meaning behind it was overwhelming. LBL and Miki needed an emotional break. It didn’t take very long before one of them said something funny to the other, most likely about death or dying. Because of the circumstances, because Miki was fighting for her life, whatever was said became the funniest thing the other had ever heard. Within a couple minutes, they both dropped to the floor, clutching themselves. This made LBL and Miki laugh even harder. The other women waiting looked on in horror.
Shortly after receiving her five-year all clear from the doctors, Miki developed cancer in her other breast. The decline, this time, was swift. A couple days before her 47th birthday, she died. Her daughter was 10 years old.
It’s tough for LBL to be sad when she thinks of Miki. There was entirely too much laughter and too much glorious mayhem that characterized their friendhip. Of course, there was a serious side to the friendship, the knowledge that each could tell the other anything and it would be all right. But it’s the laughter that still rings in LBL’s ears. And, as though it were delivered in the form of a laugh machine, it arrives unbidden and at the worst of times, usually when LBL is trying to be an adult in some kind of difficult situation.
She believes it is Miki, reminding her that life is far too short to be taken so seriously, and adulthood is sometimes far less than it’s cracked up to be. At those times, she stops trying to be an adult and simply finds something absurd in the situation to mentally laugh about. She falls to the floor of her mind, clutches herself, and imagines Miki right there with her. She then gets through whatever it is that had been giving her such anguish only a moment before.
Roxanne Jones
December 2, 2016
What a beautiful tribute to your friend. Laughter really is a salve and a glue, and the people we can share it with are such a gift.
My best to you, Roxanne (Boomer Haiku)
Roxanne Jones Freelance writer specializing in health & medicine Hurley Communications 207.829.2023 (office) 207.607.0210 (cell) roxanne@hurleycomm.com http://www.hurleycomm.com
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
Thanks, Roxanne.
Bonnie J.
December 2, 2016
I am so sorry Miki died. My condolences. Always remember the good times, and please, always be there for her daughter.
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
Thanks, Bonnie, and thanks for reading.
John Kraft
December 2, 2016
Thank you for this wonderful story. What great memories she gave you to share with us.
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
She certainly did.
Debby
December 2, 2016
Thank you for sharing. I had a “Miki”, also lost her to cancer, and love the memories. We we’re know as the two little squirrels!
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
Thanks, Debby. Love the “two little squirrels.”
Marion Driessen
December 2, 2016
Tears and a smile at the same time. I love the way your write, Renee. Absolutely love it. ❤
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
Ah, thanks, Marion. I’m overwhelmed. I’m always grateful that anyone takes time from their busy lives to read anything I write. Comments like this mean so much to me.
Marion Driessen
December 4, 2016
Life is busy, yes, but reading posts like this makes you stand still and look at the really important aspects of life. And I thank you for that * hugs *.
Andrew Reynolds
December 2, 2016
Great memories.
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
Truly.
Kate Crimmins
December 2, 2016
Everyone needs a bestie like that. I believe she is still around, hovering until she thinks you need a good laugh.
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
That’s a great way to put it, Kate.
Keith
December 2, 2016
Renee, we need more Miki’s in our lives. Thanks for sharing your beloved friend’s story with you. Your memory is an honor to her and your friendship. Keith
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
Thanks, Keith.
Shelley
December 2, 2016
Thank you for sharing your memories of a wonderful woman and a glorious friendship. And especially thank you for giving me so many laughs. I love your sense of humor.
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
Thanks, Shelley. Comments like that are really precious to me.
Phyllis Tallos-Goldring
December 2, 2016
Beautiful
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
Thanks, Phil. xxoo
Retirementallychallenged.com
December 2, 2016
Although I laugh a lot, it’s been awhile since I’ve enjoyed that from-your-gut, pee-in-your-pants kind of laughter. You were so lucky to have that with Miki.
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
I know. I’ve been very fortunate to have had several friends who I can share that kind of laughter with. I’ll be writing about others as the series goes on.
Rebecca Latson Photography
December 2, 2016
Burst out laughing at the laugh machine, then got a little teary. This is a wonderful post to honor your friend.
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
Thanks so much, Rebecca.
savingthebestforlast
December 3, 2016
❤️️
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 3, 2016
Back at you. Wait till it’s your turn. xxoo
aginggracefullymyass
December 4, 2016
Thanks for sharing this beautiful story of love. I know you make Miki proud whenever one of your LBL readers smiles!
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 6, 2016
Ah, thanks. What a wonderful thought.
Linda
December 5, 2016
We need more of the joy and laughter that you and Miki created. I’m sorry for your loss but thanks for reminding us that life is too short to not laugh till you have to pee.
Life in the Boomer Lane
December 6, 2016
Thanks, Linda. I’m laughing at that comment.
Lisa Pomerantz
December 6, 2016
What joy Miki continues to bring you. I’m so glad you still have her in your heart and in your inappropriate laughter! Keep it up. 🙂 ❤ ❤ ❤