"The most useless day of all is that in which we have not laughed." -Sebasteine Chamfort

I laugh easily. I've had my fair share of nicknames due to this characteristic of mine - Garfield (the big half orange, you can see both rows of your teeth, smile), hyena (which I disliked since they're scavengers and hideous looking), Bubbles from the Power Puff Girls (she giggles a lot), etc.

I remember the day that I visited my Grandpa for one last time here on earth. He had been moved to Fairmont Nursing Home from the hospital. When Young Mi and I got there, they hadn't hooked him up to the feeding tube or the IV. It was good to see him in his natural state. He was barely responsive that day. He had a single occupancy room to himself so it was very quiet. I felt a sudden urge to laugh in his presence. I wanted my Grandpa to hear happy sounds in his last days. So I told Young Mi funny stories and laughed out loud in the sterile room. Maybe it was my way of protesting the gloom and devastation of death. It occurred to me that when people visit Grandpa now the mood is always somber and serious. I wanted Grandpa to remember being happy. That's how I remember him - telling funny stories and laughing. He had a deep hearty slow "haw haw haw" laugh. I wondered if people outside the room would think that I was being disrespectful, but I didn't care. He passed away the next day.