When the podcaster said he was going to be interviewing Carol Burnett, I could feel an extra step in my stride. I loved her. Hearing her voice, my feet walked faster, but my heart put on the brakes, because it wasn’t just true that “I loved her,” it was that “We loved her” – my mom and I. I wasn’t sure I could keep on listening. The pain was exquisite. It was no longer a Monday morning in France, it was Friday night, in Alexandria, Minnesota. In front of the tv. With my mom. Already prepared to laugh. Re-enacting last week’s episode. Draping ourselves in the curtains like “Went with the wind.” 

Through the years, some would say that my mom looked like Carol Burnett, and she would smile and tug on her earlobe. That was Carol Burnett’s signal to her grandmother, the woman who raised her. Even long after her grandmother had passed, she ended each show with a tug and song, “I’m so glad we had this time together…” 

Without my knowledge or permission, I was long into my walk. Still listening. Smiling. Then laughing. And just like the song stated, “Seems we just get started and before you know it, come’s the time we have to say so long.”  And I was home. 

I will never refuse the feelings. Tears, laughter, love, I carry them all. Even the hardest ones find their way to joy’s newest path. This morning is just getting started. I write the blog, my ear tug to the loves that got me here, and I begin — prepared to laugh. If you’re reading this, I’m so glad we have this time together.