And on the fifth day we laughed…

Yes, we laughed.  Not that this can be surprising.  When you’ve got front row seats to the most absurd production that’s ever hit your stage? Yeah, you laugh.  Because you just can’t cry anymore.  Or at least I can’t.  So I laughed.  Not from joy, or happiness, but mostly from the relief that comes from figuring out that you are actually going to survive something you previously believed would be unsurvivable.

That is this.  Unsurvivable.

And yet… we’ve made it through the beginning.  So far.

But, you know, I’m still reasonably sure that the only thing getting us through is her.  Pushing us on.  Driving us forward.  Making us do this.

And we’re doing it.  Albeit grudgingly.  But we’re doing it.  Because it’s what we need to do.  Move forward.  We didn’t die.  But still…

My Mother is dead.

Yes, still.  Nothing has changed in that regard.  We visited her grave today… which makes this the first time I’ve done that.  I am not a grave visitor.  This is not my thing.  Because even though I’m not entirely certain what does come after this life, I don’t believe that death is the end.  I can’t.  And I know that my refusal to accept the idea of nothing following this life is the reason why the belief of life after death continues on.  The idea that I can see her again one day is the only thing that keeps me sane right now.  Even though I know logically that there’s no real guarantee.

But still I believe.

But yesterday, because I think we’ve cried all we can, we laughed.  About the strange.  The absurd.  And today we are doing it again.  Because, really, dying has some absurdities attached to it.  Good thing the dead don’t have to deal with it.  But the living?  We’re not so lucky.  We have to deal with the absurd.  And we’re doing it.  As best as we can.

And we’re laughing.

Tears will come and go, but our family ringtone was laughter.  It’s still there.  Even if I can’t hear her anymore, I know she is too.  Especially when I tried to call her several times yesterday, out of habit, because I know she would have enjoyed our travails more than just about anyone.  She was like that.  She knew absurd.

That’s one of the millions of reasons why I loved her.

Her laugh.

And I hope wherever she is now, she’s still doing that.  Laughing.  Because she’s left us in the middle of TEH CRAZY.  And all we can do is laugh.

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