“Someone laughed. It might have been my sister, dad, grandmother, or one of the dozen friends and family members arrayed around that bed in my parents’ room. Before we cried, said goodbye, and fanned out in separate cars to begin our private journeys of grief, something was said, at the moment she died, in a summer evening’s half-light. And somebody laughed. Maybe it seems strange, but I like to remember it.”
Derek Thomspson writes of his mom’s cancer and the science of resilience here.