Thoughts on Laughter

Shortly after Art died, I had a conversation about loss with an acquaintance who revealed that she had lost a daughter several years earlier.  She told me that, for a while after her daughter's death, she felt guilty every time she laughed. Listening to her that day, I could certainly understand that feeling—I think the death of a child is the worst thing that can ever happen to a mother—but I couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong with me because I didn't feel guilty about laughing, even shortly after Art's death. After thinking about it, I realized that he would not have wanted it any other way.

Laughter has always been an important aspect of our family dynamic. Art had a great sense of humor and loved to tease people. Our four adult children love to tease each other (and me), and there is always plenty of laughter whenever we get together. My son and middle daughter, in particular, both have what some would consider an "offbeat" sense of humor, and are usually able to find something to laugh about in almost any situation.


For some reason, I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Maybe it's because I'm approaching the one year anniversary of Art's death and I have been taking an inventory, of sorts, of how far I've come in adjusting to life without him. Some days I think I've come a long way, and other days, I feel like I'm regressing; but, from what I can tell, that's fairly normal. What I do know, though, is how much being able to laugh has helped me get through this first difficult  year. I've also come to realize that, in the months since Art's death, I have gravitated toward friends who are fun to be with—friends who laugh easily and often, and who don't take themselves, or life, too seriously. When I return home after spending a day or evening with these friends, the house doesn't seem quite as empty. The laughter we share during our times together sustains me, and I know I am truly blessed to have them in my life.


Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh. George Bernard Shaw