Don’t Hang Up Until You’re Laughing

Summary

The author reflects on the meaningful and humorous phone calls shared with their stepfather, a famous scientist, which became a cherished tradition and a source of wisdom and connection, especially poignant after his passing.

Abstract

The article recounts the author's tradition of engaging in lighthearted phone conversations with their stepfather, Alexander, whenever their mother was out of town. These calls were guided by the rule, "Don’t hang up until we are laughing," which later evolved to include sharing something interesting when laughter was scarce. The author reminisces about the profound impact of these calls, which provided comfort and inspiration after Alexander's death. The stepfather's wisdom, as encapsulated in a quote by Marcus Aurelius, and his ability to find humor in daily life, left a lasting impression on the author. The article is a tribute to the unique bond formed through these calls, celebrating the joy and depth they brought to both their lives.

Opinions

The author values the importance of ending conversations on a positive note, emphasizing the emotional benefit of laughter and meaningful dialogue.
The stepfather's death served as a catalyst for the author to pursue a fulfilling and authentic life, suggesting a belief in the transformative power of loss.
The author admires the stepfather's intellect and wisdom, yet feels a special connection through their shared sense of humor and ability to engage in absurd and playful banter.
The article conveys a sense of nostalgia and appreciation for the small, everyday pleasures, such as a candy jar or a shared joke, which can significantly impact relationships.
The author implicitly criticizes overly strict dietary rules, contrasting them with the stepfather's more relaxed approach to food and life, which was seen as a refreshing change.
There is an underlying reverence for the stepfather's professional accomplishments and his philosophical approach to work and life's challenges, as symbolized by the Marcus Aurelius quote on his office door.

Ending on a good note

Whenever mom went out of town, I called my stepfather to check on him. I can’t tell you what we talked about because then, I would have to remember. I had forgotten about the calls until my husband called my mother’s house. My stepfather had died earlier that day. My husband asked me, Remember those phone calls you and Alexander use to have?

The phone call rule between me and my stepfather was, Don’t hang up until we are laughing. We adapted it for days laughter was harder to come by. “Don’t hang up until we are laughing or we say something interesting.” We wanted to end our calls happy.

All the other deaths in my life have been too soon, too sick, too complicated. But my stepfather’s death awoke something in me. Marching orders. Get on with your life. Make it big. Make it wonderful. Make it honest. Make it real. Make it meaningful. Make connections. Make your dreams your daily practice.

My stepfather was a famous scientist. I am smart enough, but my intellect is no match for his. But with the phone calls, we were wise in the same way — wise enough to look for humor in daily life.

Before he retired, my stepfather hung a sign on his office door that read That which gets in the way of the work constitutes the work (Marcus Aurelius). Alexander met our family when he was fifty. He had already enjoyed half a century of work and that which got in the way of the work, without us.

The first time I met him, my mother brought me to his bachelor pad for our special get to know ya dinner. I surveyed the premises for clues. Who was this guy?

I was in the second half of being seven-years-old. I was curious about this professor who looked like a movie star. I noted Alexander had a candy jar on his kitchen counter, frozen Stouffer’s Spinach Soufflé in his freezer, cans of Tab in his refrigerator, and jokes. His jokes were of the grownup variety, filled with stories and characters and surprise endings. This guy checked all the boxes.

Mom was a food snob who didn’t let us drink Coke or eat sugar. As a family, we frowned on frozen foods. At the very least, there was going to be pop in our fridge. Things were looking up.

I don’t know how Alexander and I discovered our gift for the absurd phone call. I cannot recall any of the details from our many conversations. I do remember these talks lit up my brain. They required me to pay attention. We considered each other’s ideas the way children create the rules of a game. We had one goal — make each other laugh.

I am as stunned by those calls now as I was then. What sliver of the universe did my stepfather and I discover that located sanctuary and curiosity in a phone call? How were we so clever together?

A week after his passing, I can see him clearly answering the landline, grinning, and wondering what we were going to come up with this time — how this call was going to end. Would it end with one of us saying something meaningful or would this final call end in laughter?

LANDLINES

Don’t Hang Up Until You’re Laughing

Ending on a good note