It might feel wrong to laugh.
Especially when someone you love is forgetting who you are. Especially when the world feels heavy and backwards.
But here’s the truth:
Laughter is memory.
Not the kind you measure in dates and details — the kind you feel in your chest, in your breath, in the space that used to be called “together.”
When You Laugh, You Loop
You create:
- Safety
- Rhythm
- Relief
- A moment they want to stay in, even if they can’t name why
And let’s be honest…
Sometimes this stuff is just plain absurd.
- They put yogurt in the sock drawer.
- They call the dog “Grandpa.”
- They tell you a completely fabricated childhood story with so much conviction that you almost believe it.
It’s okay to laugh.
You need to.
You’re Not Laughing At Them. You’re Laughing With the Loop.
There’s a sacredness in humor that caregivers know better than most.
The best laughs don’t come in spite of memory loss. They come through it.
They are reminders that:
- You’re still in there
- They’re still in there
- The loop still works, even when the logic doesn’t
Things You’re Allowed to Do:
- Giggle when they make up a brand new word like “snuggleculator”
- Laugh when they swear at the TV and blame the cat
- Save the “mistakes” in a journal — not as errors, but as poetry
Laughter heals.
Not in a soft, inspirational-poster kind of way.
In a cellular, oxygen-bringing, loop-repairing kind of way.
It gives you energy.
It gives them permission to relax.
It reminds both of you:
“We’re not just surviving.
We’re still connecting.”
You Don’t Need to Be Somber to Be Serious
This is hard. But it’s allowed to be funny.
And the people you care for?
They deserve joy, too.
Even in the forgetting.
Maybe especially there.
💡 Solace Tip:
“I once called the toaster a ‘bread warmer of destiny.’
Phuc laughed so hard he spilled his tea.
That moment? I still remember.”