“I’m bringing over my leftover bottle of Vouvray.  Also, can I pick up some chicken thighs for us to do up? They’re supposed to be healthy for you so I’ll be wanting to learn how to make magnificent thighs.”

That’s what I thought I had texted to the girlfriend I often have dinner with. Only, somehow I ended up sending the text to my carpenter (who knows us both), (who’s young and married) instead. He texted back, “Sounds good! Hehe.” Then, for the first time in years, I laughed ferociously.

The sound reminded me of my dead mother’s laugh. A hysterical high shriek that blasted out in between gasps for breath. My friend thought I was crying. And later I did cry, feeling guilty about feeling good, and missing my mother and my daughter and the days when laughing was simply a part of living. 

I’m learning to laugh again. It will take some practice.

What’s out there to laugh about?