Laughter in a heartbeat

A chance conversation yesterday brought to mind my grandmother's family. Nana had so many brothers and sisters that it was difficult to remember them all. I can count eight - I think there were sixteen all together. They all had something in common: they laughed. Some sort of irrepressible bubble inside them that just giggled out and overflowed with good humour. My mother too had a real quirky humour alas often hidden by her years of ill health.

Nana herself wasn't particularly humorous but then she didn't live in a situation which encouraged it.  Instead she was kind and generous, thoughtful and loving. Her brothers and sisters however seemed to have an inbuilt sense of humour that wasn't silly or over the top, but loving and fun. They were not wealthy, indeed they must have suffered hardship and poverty along with every one else in the North East, yet they retained their cheerful dispositions still.

Aunty Maud, Nana's cousin I think, short, rotund and jolly, came on our regular country outings, squashed into our little Austin Countryman along with Nana, both my parents, my two siblings.. and me. Maybe the dog came too, I can't remember. Aunty Maud had a range of one liners for every event.

Nana's brothers, Zac and Dot (he was a very small baby) were continually wreathed in smiles and her sisters Irene and Alice, both tolerant and good humoured too.

Uncle Harry, the lovable rogue, had a clutch of children himself with his beautiful red haired wife, but my favourite, my very very favourite was D'Oyly. D'Oyly's real name was John. He was given the name D'Oyly when first born when a neighbour, shaking her head at the number of children produced by my great grandmother said
'And what are you going to call this one? D'Oyly after the rag man's horse?' My learned readers will recognise a reference to a famous opera, or opera house.

D'Oyly reveled in us children. He listened to our childish stories and as we regaled him with our tales of derring- do, he would exclaim
'Did yeh? Yeh didn't did yeh?' and he would laugh, his eyes wide with amusement and gravestone teeth stained with tobacco showing his love for us and his joy for the world.

All of them saw active service, mainly in the Navy. D'Oyly was a merchant seaman working on the ships that supplied the Navy. He met one of his bothers in Sydney harbour as their ships docked together. How's that for a coincidence. They were wonderful people, none of them tall in stature but giants of character.

I beleive it was Stan that D'Oyly met in Australia. We all loved Stan. Like Alice he lived in London and we didn't see much of him, but when we did, guess what.. we laughed. A born comedian, he entertained us with stories and jokes and one liners better than any TV entertainer. Stan had a heart attack, recovered well, but still having check ups and so forth as part of his aftercare. Out one day, off to a check up I believe, he went to light up a cigarette. His wife, my aunt, said:
'Don't do that, you know the doctor said smoking will kill you'
'I know,' he replied, 'I'll just have one last ciggy before I die'. And he laughed and lit up his last cigarette. He died there, on the platform at Paddington station, smiling to the end.

It's too late now to tell them that I loved them, my grandmother's family. I would like them to know that their love and their laughter lives on, their comic DNA beats through my heart and my sisters' hearts. We, in turn have bequeathed it to our children; and their children too will value the enjoyment their ancestry brings them.

Now add to that, the joy of the Lord, and there, is a real blessing and a lightness of heart and soul to sustain throughout the darkest of times. Thank you Father.