Laughter Always

Meghan - Marietta, Georgia
Entered on October 17, 2008
Age Group: Under 18

I believe in laughter, no matter what. Some people don’t want to laugh too much for fear of bringing on wrinkles or “laugh lines.” I can’t wait for my laugh lines. Laughter is beautiful. The only way an old person would not be beautiful to me is if he/she has cold eyes and a sulking demeanor. The ability to laugh is the most essential personality trait in life. If I let all of the times I embarrassed myself or did something stupid weigh heavily on my mind and could not laugh them off, I would be perpetually miserable. That is not to say that mistakes and idiotic actions are not addressed. They are duly noted and kept in the back of my mind for the next time I encounter a similar situation. The front of my mind, however, is kept preoccupied with thoughts of the now and the future. That gives me the freedom to continue on and look at my life in a way which allows for laughter in all circumstances.

Death is a strange sensation. When someone close to you dies, it brings on a tumultuous wave of emotions. Some people feel responsible or guilty for still being alive, even though their life and the person’s death were not mutually exclusive. Maintaining the will to live on, despite the loss, can be difficult for some. These feelings can severely cripple the ability to be happy and to laugh, especially for a few months following the death. I believe that more people should think logically about it. If you love someone, the most painful, heart-wrenching thing in the world is to see them depressed or contemplating their own death. No one, upon their death, would want that for the people they loved the most in life. If response to death is thought about in this way, which is difficult, the only response that makes sense is laughter and joy. Celebration of the dead person and the mutual love that everyone at the funeral had for him/her is the best way to “grieve.”

At my grandmother’s funeral I was distraught, but when I thought about the root of my sadness, I discovered that it was selfish. I was crying for me. I was crying because I felt bad for myself, having to live without her. After I realized that, I started to think about the little things I remembered about her and smiled. All of my Catholic relatives probably saw me smiling goofily, tears meandering down my face during the mass, and wondered what the heck I was doing. But I didn’t care. I learned then to treasure people and laugh because of the beauty of the laughter that we have shared. It may seem strange to some people, but I believe in laughter always, even at funerals.