Remembering my Grandma’s smile
Remembering my Dad chasing us around the house tickling us as kids
Remembering my Dad’s beard in the morning when he came home from a shift at the firehouse
Remembering my Dad rubbing his scratchy beard and cold face on our cheeks as we ate our breakfast
I’ve never heard a crime scene technician being called to a cleanup evidence of too much laughter. Instead, quite the opposite, real laughter can’t be contained in a steel shell, it’s explosive all right but it’s hardly selfish. Laughter is contagious and when shared eventually becomes joy. And that my friends, is the beauty of laughter. A laugh can generate a smile, that generates the feeling of happiness, that whether consciously or unconsciously is shared and enjoyed by others.
Loss is manifested in an array of endings. I compared the end of my marriage in my 20s to death. In fact, I believed my reality was worse than death. Instead of asking God in the event of death, “Why did you take him from me,” I asked, “Why couldn’t he love me, and why wasn’t I enough?”