“Don’t you ever start laughing for no reason and you just can’t stop?”
My sister said this to me the night before we crashed in Mexico. The night before she died. That was four years ago today and we were dressed in heels and black dresses and we were stopped on the stairs before the dinning room. The carpet was some kind of black background with little bright spots and I remember staring at her and staring at the carpet and asking what she was doing. I remember I was a little annoyed. I was a little annoyed because I was hungry and I was in heels that were tight and wobbly and I looked at her and she was so happy. She was so happy and she wasn’t afraid to be happy and I was…not. I remember that I wish I could hold her hand and laugh with her and be five again so that we could jump down the stairs and climb back up to the top and not wear heels or red lipstick.
Of course I wish I could do that now, too. I don’t usually wear heels anymore, and I only wear red lipstick because I like the way it makes my lips look and the wee person thinks it’s funny. The difference is, even though I always have a sadness that has settled somewhere deep and in my hips and back and sometimes spreads up to my heart and brain at night, I am happy. For the four years that I haven’t had my sister, I have had my Jude for three.
Maybe it’s him, and the way that I can be young and silly and talk to him like a baby adult and he can give me answers like a baby adult. Or maybe it’s the fact that I had a reason to run away and abandon who I was and become someone new and adult like. Or maybe that now I understand what it means to love and to hold on and to have an expiration date on the hugs and the kisses and the smell of people’s hair.
Maybe it’s all of that.
I don’t think that I have laughed and laughed and laughed for no reason like we used to. The kind where we looked at each other and the laughs wouldn’t stop and we had to go out of the room and cry and laugh and sit with our knees tucked up. I don’t think I’ve done that. But I have had something start in me that was something like a giggle, and that grew into a laugh that crinkled my eyes and came out in short little breaths.