Last night in bed my mind did the thing it usually does . . . it raced through all sorts of random thoughts and a review of the day's events. There, laying on my back with my seven year old's knee lodged in my ribs and my Hawaiian print comforter pulled up to my neck, I was hit with the realization of few things . . .
I had not cried a single tear that day. Not one.
I have cried and cried until my eyes have ached and my body shook. I have cried in the car, at the computer, on the phone, in the bath, at the store, at the airport, on the plane, on the couch, in bed, at the doctor's office, while eating . . . I've even cried in my sleep. I have walked around with tears in the corner of my eyes, just waiting for the opportunity to roll hot and fast down my cheeks, for a month now.
But not yesterday. Oh, I came close . . . but it never happened. Not a drop.
I laughed a lot yesterday.
I laughed at Orian when the invisible monkey gave him a quarter. I laughed at the sarcastic comments Xavier came up with that are so characteristic of Xavier. I laughed at Jimmy Newtron (have you ever seen that show? It's pretty good!). I laughed at some really funny stuff that Mike had to say. I laughed and laughed at the hilarious stuff that Adrian said. I even laughed at things I thought up myself (I have the odd ability to amuse myself with things I say and do and think . . . I'm a dork, I know). I laughed.
Laughed!
And as I lay there, with the fog of almost-sleep around me, I realized that I was falling asleep on my own. No Ambien. No benadryl. No Sinus tablets. Just peaceful sleepiness.
I slept.