I agree laughter is the best medicine for us. There are times in our lives when laughter does not heal a bereaved soul.
One sunny day in summer, I watched my father dying. I did not understand what was happening, I saw mom crying and praying, my older siblings were speechless.
The only voice I heard was the doctor’s, ‘I do not take money from a dead man.’
The next few days were unbearable. One of my older siblings fainted each time we mentioned the word Dad. He could not sleep for days. Mom told him to recite the Arabic sentence, ” Bismillah ar Rahman ar Rahim.”( In the name of God, the Merciful, the Mercy-Giving.)He repeated these words daily, to help him sleep.
I recall spending days wondering what will happen to us. Fun and laughter seemed to desert us forever.
It took a while for us to return to normal life. When Dad passed away I was twelve years old, it was a time when death did not enter my vocabulary. I always felt what I saw is not true, dad will come back.
When I think of this incident today I’m surprised how we carried on all these years without the most important person in our life.
These days I watch TV, and laugh, at the stupidity of some people, “Making mountains out of Molehills.”