There are certain post topics that spend a long time floating around in my head, and this is one of them.

A couple months ago, my dad and I were driving to LA and we switched the radio to a classical pops station, I believe it was. I don’t know what it was about the music, but I found it totally weird and hysterically funny. I started to laugh and just kept on and on laughing, nonstop for about 10 minutes. It was the first laughing fit that I’d had in a couple years, and I was reminded, bittersweetly, of laughing fits that I used to have with my mom. Remembering these, I felt inspired to write a blog post in the near future.

Then last weekend, which was my dada’s (my dad’s dad’s) birthday, I was thinking about laughter too. I was reminded of the incredible capacity my dada exemplified throughout his life to make others laugh. He decided early in life to persist through his challenges of life and help others through their challenges by way of laughter, which he did by sharing jokes. I had initially hoped to write two posts last weekend, the one on thoughtfulness that I wrote, but also one on laughter that could recognize both my dada and my mom. I wasn’t able to get to both, but today I write this post also remembering him.

In talking about my mom, I’d like to reflect on her ability to laugh. She knew when life didn’t need to be taken so seriously, and so she laughed.

Because of the challenging experiences that her health brought, she and the rest of us weren’t laughing as much later on, and I do have trouble being able to rewind past this darker time to remember all the lighter moments when I would see her laugh. But a few of those moments do stick out for me and so I remember.

Oh, my mom’s laugh. When I think about it I don’t really have the words to translate. The closest I can get to describing it is that it’s like a wonderful song that makes everyone else want to sing too. So beautiful, so very unique — any of you who have heard it know that no one has a laugh like my mom’s.

I did think about sharing a video here; there’s one my dad regularly shows us of my mom giving a speech at Nikhil’s high school graduation party, and she’s laughing so much and making everyone else join in the laughter. As I write this post, and imagining her laugh, I’m picturing her in that video. But in all honesty, I also have difficulty watching that video, so I’ve decided not to include it. As for why I bring this up this video, well, I’m hearing her laughter from it as I write this post, and I’d like to document that.

Anyway, there are a few memories about my mom laughing that I’d like to share here, because these are the ones that I often think about.

Growing up, our family regularly met with a group of friends who all had daughters around Sanam and my age. We’d meet for dinner at one of our houses every couple of months, and the parents would chat or play cards downstairs while the kids would go upstairs and watch movies. I remember once sitting upstairs with the other girls. We started to hear laughter — my mom’s laughter. The other parents were laughing too, but my mom’s laugh being so distinct, it was the one that stood out and traveled all the way upstairs. I remember hearing one of the girls saying something to Sanam and me like, “There goes your mom!” and all of us laughing ourselves.

Then there was one time that my mom, dad, Sanam, Nikhil, and I were seated around our dinner table at home. Somehow we ended up having a discussion on winking. My dad made some comment about how he didn’t feel the need to wink at people that we all found very funny — I really can’t remember why now, but that’s not important. After that, my mom started winking in this totally crazy and ridiculous way and we all just laughed and laughed together for ages.

I shared earlier in this post about a laughing fit that I recently had. I haven’t had laughing fits — that is, the kind where you just lose control and just surrender to incessant giggles, sometimes for something that isn’t actually even that funny — that often; in fact, they’re a rarity. It’s cool when they happen because they’re a really unique experience and I’m left crying (because I’m laughing too hard) and with sore abs afterwards. Well, not only have I experienced a laughing fit only every once in a while, but I’ve also only had one with a few people. My mom is one of them. She brought that out of me.

I usually find myself able to conclude in poignant ways, but today I find myself stuck in reflection about these nice memories and hearing my mom’s sweet laugh. I hold onto the hope that one day, we will laugh again together and the laughing will be ceaseless.