Growing up, I had no idea how important it was.

Not until I married, had children, and started a career did I appreciate the gift my parents had given me.

My father was a master of the one-liner.  Then I found it in my husband.  Both children can sometimes make me laugh to tears.

A sense of humor – and the ability to see “funny” in nearly all situations – is a blessing –  no more so than when there is a family crisis.

As Jacob moved through his high school years, addiction slowly snuffed out all joy.  When laughter left our household, so did the light.

Bitterness replaced joy.  Sarcasm cut, just like the word’s origin.   Not even Chevy Chase, John Belushi or Billy Crystal brought relief.  Nothing was funny.

Recently, a friend called from miles away.  She gave me a detailed update on everyone. Her family is facing cancer, divorces and other troubles.  We exchanged woes.

Then she said, you gotta laugh – and we did.

When I first began attending Al-Anon, I never smiled, let alone laughed.

After several months, a woman at one meeting recounted the havoc her husband and his drinking wrought on her home.  She described a basket overflowing with laundry tumbling down the stairs, and for reasons the rest of us never understood, she began to laugh.

Today, we laugh often at meetings.  This surprises newcomers, but sometimes you just have to,

Facetiming with my children brings laughter.  So do the daily antics of our leggy, needle-nosed greyhound.

More than a decade into recovery – mine and my son’s – I am reminded  how important humor is in our lives.

If addiction is a disease of losses, then maybe recovery begins when it’s funny again.