One of the things people don’t tell you about grief is the humorous side of it. Many will warn that grief can erupt at strange times and that memories of those who have died spring upon you in unusual places. But few mention the fact that loss can put you in situations where the only real solution is to laugh.
My father died at the end of last month. He was much loved and is much missed. He was also a great raconteur and, as we have been sorting through photographs to display at the wake, I realise too that he was a great laugher. I’ve lost count of how many images we’ve seen of him with his head thrown back at a party, laughing. Consequently, it seems almost appropriate that there have been moments of laughter since his death.
No sooner had we entered the hospital car park, my husband had made his first off-colour joke of the afternoon, which triggered hysterical laughter. My mother, who just a few minutes earlier had closed the eyelids of the man she’d loved for almost 40 years, laughed hardest of all. During a meeting, the undertaker kept referring to Dad as ‘the loved one’, which again prompted church giggles – both Mum and I immediately thought of Evelyn Waugh and Dad in some kind of ‘happy hunting ground’ in the sky, with various embalmed pets.
