Tickled To Death

Tickled to Death

Laughter can conceal a heavy heart,but when the laughter ends, the grief remains.

Proverbs 14:13

My mother’s death was not funny, but that day we laughed. Watching cancer rob my parents of active, vibrant lives during their fifties, while I was in my twenties, produced plenty of tears. The laughter came unexpectedly—emotional relief for our sorrowful hearts.

My husband, my sister-in-law, and I stood in the mortuary vestibule with a solemn, well-dressed gentleman. He had the job of helping us make necessary arrangements. His too-soothing voice, accompanied by the too-peaceful music, in the too-meticulous setting knocked us silly.

Months of caring for Mother while she wore a hospital gown, struggled through surgeries, and lost her hair made choosing the color of the silk-lined casket seem pointless.

“Would your mother prefer blue or pink?” the suit-wearing guy asked. “Do you like pine, maple, mahogany, or oak?”

He walked away to give us some decision-making time. I looked at my husband and sister-in-law and whispered, “Blue or pink? Are you kidding me? I’m pretty sure Mother doesn’t care.” We burst into laughter. While considering the displayed caskets, each feature struck us like the punch line of a joke. The politely provided personal time was filled with laughter.

Out of control, we acted like children in church with an inappropriate eruption of giggles. We did not want to appear uncaring or disrespectful; after all, my mother had just died.

Certainly the padded wooden box where Mother’s body would be laid to rest would not provide her, or us, any comfort; but we were surprised by our unexpected outburst. No matter how hard we tried to respect the gravity of the moment, we could not stop laughing. I’m sure Mom was laughing too.

—Sue Ferguson

Thank you, Lord, for laughter that lightened the magnitude of our terrible loss. Amen.