I attended the funeral of a close family member this weekend. The funeral service was appropriately somber and sincere, as they typically are in the Midwest. The committal at the cemetery was during our first real winter storm. Those of you farther south than the Mason-Dixon line probably will never have that experience.
What I will probably recall years down the road about this funeral will be the time with the family in the evening, after all else had been done that day. We sat around the living room, talking and reminiscing about family life, about some 55 years of memories of two families that had close to each other in age and size and residence. There was an instinctive need to laugh. The one whom we were grieving was present in our thoughts, but what we were doing was celebrating the fruit of her life in the lives of her husband, kids, sisters, nephews and nieces. There were so many tales to tell, and stories to be told. So much about which we could laugh.
Laughter is good for the soul, they say. Laughter can be the unmistakable sign of the Spirit, and the expression of Christian hope in the life to come and gratitude for the goodness of marriage and family life.
