Along with almost every tragedy there comes inappropriate laughter. Just at the point where you think you can never stop crying, where you feel like you will never smile again, it strikes.
Something so stupid and awful and wrong that you burst into laughter that starts small and catches like a wildfire in dry grass until you are howling and crying and snotting all over yourself.
Gael gave me permission to share her story that caused our inappropriate laughter Tuesday night.
She had told many, many people what happened to Curt, but she hadn't had a chance to tell her beloved cousin, Lisa.
Gael checked her email and found one from Lisa with the subject line "Sad news."
She thought "Oh, good, someone told Lisa. That's one less thing I have to do."
She opened the email. The sad news was that Lisa's dog had died.
"So I thought 'What do I do NOW?'" Gael said.
Indeed. Call Lisa and say "You think YOU have sad news! Well, check this out!" or "I can see your dog and raise you a husband!"
Yeah. Inappropriate laughter. Sometimes it is the only way we survive.