Begun in a giggle
Rippling into a chuckle
Cascading in laughter that swirls and eddies around you.
Laughter replicating itself in the other
Birthing a smile
Chortling in the wave of your happiness
Surging into shared laughter
The echo of your laughter rolls back to me.
Surging, swirling, back from eternity into the present.
Faint melody vibrating in the warp of time
Still capable of birthing a smile.
In your echo death sheds its heaviness
A smile steals through it’s greyness
Grief’s solidness vibrates,
Pulsating at the resonance of your memory.
You send your laugher back
I send my laughter forward
Surging in shared laughter
Here and there.
As a child Matthew’s laughter was infectious. He had one of those laughs that you ended up laughing with. Many was the time he was laughing about something that he should have been told off about and I would start to be stern only to ending up laughing along with him. It was a laughter you could hear across play grounds and in crowded noisy rooms. It rose above the noise, clear, strong and vibrant.
As he grew into teenage years he didn’t laugh as much. It was something I often missed. The process of growing into manhood seemed to still his laughter. Yet on occasions his laughter would still rumble – now it was deeper, still strong and clear particularly when he was being irreverent or reminding me that life shouldn’t be so serious.
With his passing, it is the echo of his laughter I still hear. That infectious laughter, as if he is reminding me to “lighten up” and stop being so serious.