laugher

there are lots and lots of things that i really miss about my mama. some obviously really big things, like the love that only a mother can have for her children, but it seems like the things that i miss the most are the little things. like being able to pick up the phone and call to tell her a funny story. or her laughter.
anyone who knew my mama knew she LOVED to laugh. and she had a quite distinctive laugh. you could easily pick her out in a room of 100 people by her loud, uncontrollable, contagious laughter. i really miss that. i miss how she could so easily get so cracked up- and laugh until she cried. i miss her sense of humor, because the older i get the more i realize just how similar my sense of humor is/was (never sure of the correct tense to use when i talk about mama, the past tense just seems so...strange) to hers. one of my favorite memories of mama that so accurately reflects her love to laugh and have fun happened during her first chemo treatment. i was at school and her and dad were off for the marathon day of blood work, counts, accessing the port, fluids, benadryl, chemo drugs, anti nausea meds, ect... i assumed she'd be scared, probably a little depressed, and sick. i was at school, and about an hour into treatment, i get a picture text from mama. it is of the man that is sitting across from her in the chemo room... not a little man, but a rather large man, completely passed out, sleeping like a baby...with his big, white, hairy belly hanging out. mama's message "see what you are missing out on? wish you could hear him snore."
she refused to be discouraged by her treatment, and instead was looking for ways to laugh and have fun, even at poor sleeping chemo mans expense. :) it became a common theme of chemo days, always waiting for either a picture or a phone call of the interesting people at the oncologists office.


what i'd give for one more text from my mama, or just to hear the sound of her laughter again.