She was laughing. Laughing incessantly. Her mother looked towards her with a touch of annoyance, then shifted her attention to the guests. She realized today’s class would be missed. The guests signaled their departure, and her mother walked them to the door. She immediately began collecting dishes in a hurry.
Her mother reentered the room. “Can’t you control yourself?” she chided, her voice tinged with exasperation. “Excessive laughter can be hard on the heart.”
She burst into another fit of giggles, wrapping herself around her mother as she uttered, “When he passes away, I won’t laugh anymore.”
“May God always keep you smiling,” her mother said, patting her gently. Time slipped away, swift and unheeded. It was so rapid that no one noticed when the little bird of the house left its nest and found its way to a distant land.
Distance can separate people, but not the bonds of the heart, especially when the relationship is between a mother and her daughter. She returned once a month, albeit briefly. Even today, she came back and sat with everyone. Her sister-in-law was struggling to open a cold drink can. Her brother asked, “Will you open it?”
Her sister-in-law handed the can to her and replied, “You open it.” As she opened the can, the fizz exploded, and drops sprayed everywhere. Her brother, as if he had uncorked a bottle of champagne, burst into laughter. The others joined, and the room echoed with merriment.
Her mother, too, couldn’t resist the infectious laughter. As she chuckled, she looked at her daughter. These were the moments that could bring her to fits of laughter in an instant.
She sat with her head slightly bowed, her laughter subsided. Her mother’s hand caressed her head affectionately. “What’s wrong?” her mother asked. “You’re not laughing?”
She looked at her mother and replied, “The heart has stopped laughing.”
Amidst the laughter, her words fell like a pin drop. Her mother gazed at her with concern. She continued, “Mother, it’s as if the heart has died.”
The emotional atmosphere shifted abruptly. From laughter to a heavy silence. Her words resonated in the room, a testament to the depth of her emotions. Her mother’s hand remained on her head, now a source of comfort.
“What are you talking about?” her mother inquired softly.
She looked up at her mother and said, “Mother, a heart that is dead can’t laugh again.”
Each word carried a weight that lingered. Her mother’s gaze held a mixture of understanding and compassion. She rested her head against her mother’s hand, as if seeking solace from it.
Her mother spoke, breaking the silence, “You know, my dear, even when a heart feels lifeless, it can find its rhythm again.”
She was trying to hold back tears, her emotions a whirlwind. Her mother’s touch was soothing, her words a balm to the heartache she carried.
“Sit up,” her mother said gently. As she complied, her mother smiled and added, “Remember, my child, no matter how heavy the burden, how deep the sorrow, life has a way of rekindling laughter in even the most desolate hearts.”
The room was filled with an air of reassurance, a testament to the unbreakable bond between a mother and her daughter.