The Last Laugh

Still hear that laugh. How could I not? Happy Mama’s Day!

Better For That

Mom 20-something

My mother’s laughter was like a waterfall. Loud, fluid, bigger than any room she occupied. She is not here anymore, but fortunately her laughter remains.

It was (and is) cobbled with layers and textures and memories of home.

It was home.

As a child, if we were separated in the grocery store or movie theatre, I could always find her before she found me. I’d stop, listen, and sure enough within a minute or so, her bubbly eruption would fill my ears; implausibly loud and long. That infectious wave of mirth made others within earshot happy too. More than strangers would recall her appearance; they would have been able to pluck her laugh from a sound booth.

It was genuine delight, sunshine and wonder. Unapologetic, free, and easy.

You could see the fillings in her back teeth, watch her nose twitch a little before the ruckus began, and get startled…

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