I don't know how far out you are from D-day, but probably for the whole first year after D-day, I found any sort of joking by H felt extremely disrespectful. You know how joking is inappropriate at certain solemn events? That's how I felt.
And I know this was hard for H to give up, because he had always been a big jokester, life of the party kind of a guy.
It wasn't that 'I' had lost my sense of humor, it was more that I found his attempts to joke and cheer me up to be silly and disrespectful of the level of grief and pain I was experiencing.
And oh boy was he in for a rude awakening when he found that his jokes didn't work on me anymore.
He was forced to learn to communicate with me with real words, feelings, and actions. It was what finally allowed me to heal.
Now 3+ yrs later, I'm fine with his jokes again.