Page 79 of Laugh

Finding Momma B’s eyes, I gaze at her with as much compassion as I can muster. “Momma B, Cara. God… You were hisworld. The way you encouraged him to always be himself, accepted him just as he was, was everything to him. He never felt like he needed to be anyone but a son and a friend. Your hugs and kisses, loving words, comfort when he was sick, understanding when his heart ached, was truly an honor to be a part of and watch.”

Wiping away tears, I keep going. “You are the best momever. That’s what he told me time and time again. He loved you,both of you, until the day he died. Take comfort knowing that he was well loved and really,reallyhappy.”

Looking down at his journal in front of me, I trace the indentations on the cover again, deciding to share something I hadn’t planned. Finding Beau’s eyes again, I raise a finger in a small wave to him, hoping he knows I believe every word I’m about to say.

“When you have to face tragedy, whether it be death or sickness or injury, sometimes it helps just to talk about it. Vocalize what you’re going through and continue talking about it. Someone new to me said that the more you talk, the easier it gets every time. Marcus leaving this worldisa tragedy, and it seems absurd to me that he isn’t here anymore, which makes it seem surreal.

“The more we talk about it, the moreI’vetalked about it, it’s helped me to cope and allowed those good feelings to filter back in when I think of him. And when we find we can’t do anything else but cry, why not try laughing? There’s nothing we can do to change what happened, but we can laugh at the absurd and happy memories. Marcus really loved to laugh.”

Shrugging more to myself, I add almost as an afterthought as I realize the truth of my words. “If you can laugh at something, it can’t be so overwhelming. Remember Marcus. Talk about him. Laugh about his crazy antics and funny stories. Find happiness in the times wewereable to share with him and take comfort knowing that he loved every single one of you.”

As I come to the end of my speech, I grin at his parents through my tears fighting to fall. “Thank you, Declan and Cara, for giving me the privilege of speaking about my best friend. I love him more than superheroes love capes. He wasmysuperhero, and I swear, that man would have worn a cape every day if he knew it was an option.”

I let the chuckles fill the room as I place a poem in front of me. “I know it’s sappy, but there’s one more thing I’d like to read that’s eerily fitting for today. One of the nights Marcus and I found ourselves sitting at the bar at O’Reilly’s, he showed me this amazing poem he was incredibly moved by. It’s called ‘The Parting Glass’ and I hope you feel the peace I did when I read it again last night.”

Once it quiets down from the soft chuckles, I read it, then find my way back to Beau’s arms as he wraps me up tight, whispering words of praise and support.

The Parting Glass

Of all the money that e’er I had

I have spent it in good company

Oh and all the harm I’ve ever done

Alas, it was to none but me

And all I’ve done for want of wit

To memory now I can’t recall

So fill to me the parting glass

Good night and joy be to you all

So fill to me the parting glass

And drink a health whate’er befalls

Then gently rise and softly call

Good night and joy be to you all

Of all the comrades that e’er I had

They’re sorry for my going away

And all the sweethearts that e’er I had

They would wish me one more day to stay

But since it fell into my lot

That I should rise and you should not

I’ll gently rise and softly call

Good night and joy be to you all

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